The Curious Case of Casper High
by A.Treatyjh
Summary: Casper High is full of the same drama and heartbreak that runs rampant in every high school, but there's something about it that's unlike any other. As the world's leading Ghost Hunting Academy, students are trained to protect themselves against the town's haunting inhabitants, but when a ghost starts haunting the halls of the very same academy, things take a turn for the worse.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Before you start reading, I just want to thank everyone who takes the time to read this. I would love to hear what you guys think, so don't refrain from commenting. This story is a lot darker than the show, and the characters (especially the ghosts) are a lot more menacing than the show portrayed them to be, so if the lighter theme is what you enjoy, I don't recommend this story. The characters are the same, just certain aspects are enhanced to make them more realistic for teenagers and older. I hope you like reading this as much as I liked writing it. Thanks again!**

* * *

"READY,"

Mrs. Tetslaff's voice boomed, echoing off the walls gym. "SET," Sam flexed her fingers over the shining silver pieces scattered at her feet. "GO!"

Immediately, the gym was filled with a flurry of moving hands, quiet muttering, and the clicks of pieces falling into place. Sam's violet eyes were trained on the pieces, her hands flying even faster than her eyes could register. Only her breath was at a standstill. _"Only a few parts left..."_ she bit her lip.

Sam briefly heard Mrs. Tetslaff barking orders, but her concentration was solely on the half-finished ectogun before her. The teacher's orders fell on deaf ears. Her eyes scoured over each part before she put it into place.

 _"One piece left.."_ Sam thought to herself, searching the gym floor for the missing part. _"There!"_

Sam snatched the up the neon core of the gun, smacking it into place before holding it in the air.

"We have our winner," Mrs. Tetslaff exclaimed, causing all the students to drop their half assembled weapons. Sam grinned, watching as the other students sat back and sighed, looking expectantly around each other. "Congratulations, Valerie," Sam's smile fell like an anchor at the coach's words. "You won again."

Sam lowered her gun. She gritted her teeth when her eyes fell upon the girl with chocolate brown skin, smirking as the coach clapped her on the shoulder. "You're quite handy with that thing, aren't you?" Mrs. Tetslaff gave Valerie a smile-a rare gift when coming from the disciplined woman. Sam's fingers tightened around the ectogun until her hand turned pink. There was nothing Sam hated more than coming in second.

"Hey, Sam," a familiar voice spoke up next to her. "are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Tucker." She snapped at the boy without casting him a glance.

"You don't look fine." he pointed out blandly. "You look like you're gonna break the gun in half."

Sam tore her eyes from the dark-skinned girl to stare down at her hands. Slowly, she loosened her fingers until they returned to their normal color, a pale white that rivaled the brilliance of fine porcelain.

"How does she do it so fast?" Sam muttered to the boy beside her.

"Skill and genius." He answered with a dopey smile, the same smile he gazed at nearly every girl he saw. Sam rolled her eyes as she found him staring fondly at her enemy.

"She's far from a genius, Tucker." Sam's rage flared again when Valerie turned to her, the smirk still in place. Sam ground her teeth. She hated the smug look, the victorious dance in her emerald irises.

"She's the best in the class," Tucker commented, "besides..you know who.."

Sam felt a soft blush fly across her cheeks, and once again, her fingers turned blossom pink against the cold handle of the ectogun.

"I don't think he even counts as 'our class' anymore." Sam said quietly. "He doesn't even show up half the time anyway."

"He's busy, you know." Tucker murmured, his glasses slipping down his nose as his chin dropped.

"No," Sam hissed coldly. "I don't know."

Tucker's eyes fell to the polished wood floor of the gymnasium. For the millionth time, Sam wondered why Tucker continued to defend him.

They fell into silence, Tucker toeing the floor numbly and Sam staring at the glowing core of her gun, bright green like Spring grass. Under her fingers, Sam could feel the core radiating with ectoplasmic energy. The rest of the gun was coated in smooth silver, casting Sam's reflection back at her as she stared at it. Her fingers traced over the black lettering on the side. Before she could complete the word, her fingers drew back, clenching into a fist. That word, that name, only brought back past memories, missed opportunities, and a lot of anger.

Tucker took the gun from her. His hands covered the faded name, hiding it from her view.

"Have..have you heard about the latest.. _accident_?" Tucker asked, trying to change the subject from the bitter topic.

"Why do you say it like that?" Sam glared at him from the corner of her eye. "It was an accident, not an" she used her fingers as air quotes, matching his hushed tone. _"accident."_

"I'm just saying," Tucker raised his hands defensively. "First it was Star, then Dash, and now Brittney. It can't all be a coincidence."

"They all got hurt," Sam clarified, "probably doing something stupid. If you ask me, they had it coming."

"But-"

"MISS MANSON, MR. FOLEY, LEAVE YOUR CHIT CHAT FOR AFTER CLASS." The two jumped as Mrs. Tetslaff's voice boomed beside them.

"Yes, Mrs. Tetslaff." They replied in sync. The coach nodded, satisfied with their humble response, and continued teaching. The second her focus was drawn away, Tucker began whispering in Sam's ear.

"I heard some rumors about a ghost." he ignored her skeptical glare. "It could be true!"

"Yeah," Sam whispered back sarcastically. "A ghost haunting a ghost hunting academy. Real smart, Tucker."

"Hey, I didn't say it was a smart ghost." Tucker pointed out. Before Sam could reply, the gym door eased slowly open. The class immediately grew silent at the sight of the newcomer.

Sam felt her mouth grow dry as she watched him approach the wide-eyed class, his quiet footsteps echoing around the high walls of the gym. At least she wasn't the only one staring. His appearance had stolen the whole class's attention, as it usually did.

"Mr. Fenton," Mrs. Tetslaff broke the silence. Even her resonant voice was lowered a few pegs, and held more softness than anyone knew she had. "Good to see you again."

The boy smiled faintly, maybe even shyly, with only the very corners of his mouth curving up. "Good morning, Mrs. Tetslaff." Though his voice wasn't at all loud, the silence of the class carried his words all throughout the gym.

"I take it everything went smoothly?" she asked. Danny only nodded. "Feel free to join us," Mrs. Tetslaff told him, scanning the assembled students for an open space.

Danny nodded again, mumbling a quick "thank you" before starting towards the back of the class. The whispers paused as he walked by, only to start up again after he passed. Sam watched him quietly. Their eyes connected, but only briefly before Danny's sapphire eyes darted away.

He sat far behind her, watching the class in silence. Sam blocked out his presence, desperately trying to focus on Mrs. Tetslaff's teachings, but she couldn't shake the feeling of his eyes on her back. Sam clenched her fists and forced the thought of her ex-friend out of her mind.

"Tucker," she whispered to her dark-skinned friend. "Talk to me."

Tucker glanced at her over the rim of his black glasses. "Talk? About what?"

"Something." The gothic girl responded through gritted teeth. Tucker frowned, bewildered at her unusual request.

"Why? Oh." He searched over his shoulder and his eyes fell upon Danny, always a sore subject with Sam. Whenever the boy was near, Sam needed some kind of distraction to keep her from losing her temper. "Can we talk about the accidents?" Tucker dared to ask. His eyes remained on Danny, who was too busy studying his worn out shoes to notice them. Tucker's glare was drawn to Sam when an irritated sigh escaped her dark purple lips.

"Fine." She snapped. Tucker grinned, browsing through his mental folder on the topic.

"Who do you think is next?" He asked.

"That's a stupid question."

"You wanted to talk." Tucker said pointedly. "Now answer the question."

"I don't know, Tucker." Sam replied while watching Mrs. Tetslaff pull out a chart of a ghosts' body, pointing at the places that an ectogun would do the most damage.

"Think about it," the computer-geek urged, "all the popular kids are going down, so-"

"So we should be safe." Sam grinned despite herself. She couldn't be considered popular in anyone's mind, and Tucker was even worse. She may have been a goth freak, but he was known as the Techno Geek _and_ Bad Luck Tuck. They had always been low on the social ladder, but she wouldn't change it if she had the chance.

"True." Tucker answered glumly. "But seriously, who's the next victim?" Sam refrained from growling at the boy and resorted to a dramatic eye roll.

"Stop calling them victims, okay? They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But _if they were_ , who will be the next 'accident'?"

Sam brushed her onyx bangs back, beginning to regret asking Tucker to talk to her. She didn't need to block one annoyance with another annoyance.

"Paulina is the most popular." Sam finally answered. "And _if_ that rumor is true, which it definitely isn't, than I'm surprised she hasn't gone down yet." A look of disgust passed over Sam's face as she thought of Casper High's beauty queen.

"Good point." Tucker concluded. "I guess she'll need a strong man to protect her." Tucker smirked, puffing up his chest. "I'd say this is my opportunity, Sam."

"Don't even try, Tucker." Sam picked at the fabric in her shirt.

"You think I'm not manly enough?" Tucker laced his voice with jovial sarcasm.

"No," Sam answered quietly. "I think _Paulina_ is too shallow to see the good in you." Sam spit the name like it was poison. "Or anyone, for that matter."

"Maybe I could convince her." Tucker joked.

"Don't waste your time." Sam shot back coolly as the bell sounded throughout the gym.

Immediately, students were crowding the door, pushing to get to the cafeteria. Tucker slung one strap of his bag over his shoulder and started towards the herd of anxious students.

"Tucker, just go out the back way." She scowled at the crowd. "We won't make it through that mob. Not with all our limbs still attached."

Sam grabbed Tucker by the wrist and drug him to the back door of the gym. Sure, they would have to take the long way, but it was better than battling the mobs.

"Look at them, Tucker," Sam spat. "like guinea pigs. They follow each other like idiots. No minds of their own."

Tucker laughed as two students tripped each other, both trying to pass through the door at the same time. So the social outcasts took the back way, both distracted by the amusing spectacle of teenage idiocy.

"I don't think they understand the idea of a single-file line." Sam snorted.

"Yeah, they'r-" Tucker stumbled back and fell on Sam.

"Tucker!" She growled, pushing him off. "Watch where you're going." Sam chided the boy, who was trying to put his glasses back into place.

"Sorry, Tucker," a low voice said, shocking Sam from her irritated state. Upon looking into the speaker's crystal blue eyes, Sam went into an even deeper state of irritation. "That was my fault."

Tucker slipped his glasses up his nose and blinked. His visioned focused on Danny, and Tucker found his mouth opening and closing several times before any sound came out.

"Uh, no, no," Tucker waved his hand dismissively, awkwardly clearing his throat. "It's cool. I should've been..uh, looking where I was going."

The three stood at an awkward loss of words, the two boys shifting uncomfortably and Sam silently brooding. After a few unbearably long seconds, Sam snatched Tucker's wrist again.

"Come on, Tuck. All the good food will be gone by the time we get there."

"I'm going, Sam, ow!" Tucker yanked his arm away, glaring at the goth girl while rubbing the red mark she had left on his hand. "Take it easy!" After giving her one more deadly look, which was very unusual of Tucker, he followed Danny to the door.

Reaching the door first, Danny pulled it open and waited for Sam and Tucker to pass through. Tucker eased into the hallway with a quick "thank you" and stared at Sam expectantly from the other side. He raised his eyebrows to her, but Sam didn't move.

"Are you coming, Sam?" An undertone of annoyance seeped through Tucker's voice. Sam scowled at him, then at the door, and last of all at Danny. Her violet eyes connected with his cerulean ones, holding his gaze until Sam felt her stomach churn. Even when they were still friends, Sam couldn't look into his eyes for very long.

Finally, she too passed under the door, not sparing Danny a second glance as she sped past him and into that hallway. She couldn't help but notice a chill spread through her bones as she passed him.

 _"I can't even walk past him without feeling cold."_ Sam thought bitterly. As if he had heard her thoughts, Danny took a sharp breath, but Sam didn't even glance back. Maybe it was her imagination, but the cold only grew keener with each step away from him. Sam quickened her pace, making it halfway down the hall before she checked over her shoulder. She was greeted by an empty hall. Danny was already gone, but the icy chill was still there.

* * *

"Did you hear? Danny Fenton came back today."

"Already?"

"That was quick."

"Is it even possible to complete a mission that fast?"

"Well, it's _Fenton_. Has he ever failed?"

"No."

"Guess not."

"Not that I can remember."

Sam squeezed the Cafeteria tray under her hands. The cherry-colored plastic cut into her palms, but she didn't notice. Ahead of her, the bumbling group of idiots continued to discuss the bane of her existence and his latest mission that he completed in a whopping two days. Sam bit her tongue, using the pain to shut out the words. She heard the sounds, but didn't identify the words and meanings of each one. Sam developed a tune in her head, muting the chatter of the world and settling for the sweet music of her own mind. Only Tucker tugging on her arm brought Sam back to reality.

"What?" Sam hissed, annoyed to be pulled from her world of blissful ignorance.

"She's talking to you." Tucker pointed at a very irritated lunchlady, who glowered at Sam even more than the other students.

"Sorry," Sam blushed slightly, stepping up to the lady.

"I said," the woman grumbled, her bushy eyebrows set low over her dark eyes. "What do you want? Meatloaf, chicken.."

Sam grimaced at the options. "Salad, please."

The lunch lady plopped a few leaves and a tomato on Sam's plate before ushering the girl along.

"NEXT." the woman demanded as Sam slipped out of line, scanning the packed cafeteria for her usual table.

"I heard it was a dragon this time.."

"A ghost dragon? Yeah right.."

Sam zigzagged in between tables, ignoring the comments that fell upon her numb ears. It was like this every time Danny came back from a job; since freshman year, he had been sent off more times than Sam could count-not like she kept track or anything. Rumors flew like bats of hell, especially because the boy himself never gave out any details.

"That's his second mission this week!"

"You should talk to him." Sam heard one boy tell another. "Ask him what his secret is."

"No way!" the other one countered. "You ask him. I don't want to get shot."

"You're just scared."

"And I have a right to be! He could probably destroy me in his sleep."

"Don't be a chicken..."

Sam quickly trotted past the table, not wanting to hear anymore. She slipped into her own chair and stabbed the soft salad greens as Tucker wound his way to her. She didn't bother to look up when he sat down.

"They're getting new frogs today." Tucker's fork plunged into the meatloaf, making Sam retch. "The freshmen are doing the dissection thing."

Sam's fork stabbed into the plate, making a high ring fill their ears. Tucker frowned at her silence. He finished chewing before he spoke, knowing that Sam would yell at him if he didn't.

"What? No angry protests? Save the frogs posters?" He laughed, waving a hand in her face. Sam slapped it away. A thoughtful expression fell over her before a slow smile spread across her mouth, lighting her face with mischievous delight.

"Tucker," she said sweetly. The boy groaned, recognizing her sugary tone as trouble. "The protests aren't working. I think we should raise the stakes a bit."

Tucker's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. "You mean _you_ should raise the stakes a bit. Not me." He shook his head vigorously. "No Tucker involved."

"Come on, Tucker," Sam continued her sweet tone. "Who doesn't want to help defend innocent creatures from the brutality of man?"

"You're the one that's all pissed off, not me." Tucker ripped into his meatloaf once again, ignoring Sam's pleading eyes.

"You almost got me suspended last time." He mumbled. Sam shrugged, feigning thoughtfulness.

"Whatever. I don't know what I'm going to do with the newest version of the PDA though." She fought back a grin as Tucker's eyes shot to hers. "I guess I'll just give it away. Maybe to someone who shares my passion for animal rights."

"You mean the PDA XL300?" He asked, fork paused halfway to his mouth.

"Yeah. You have one yet?" Sam inquired with fake innocence.

"You know I've been saving up my money for that."

Sam gave him another nonchalant shrug. "You can have mine," she said slowly, watching with amusement as the anticipation blossomed in his eyes. "but you're gonna owe me."

Tucker glanced down at his plate, absently twisting the silver fork in his hands. "This is how you got me last time." He muttered more to himself than to the girl in front of him.

"Going once," Sam teased.

"I still have weeks of chores before I earn enough.." Tucker grumbled to himself. He appeared to be very focused on his plate.

"Going twice..."

"Is it worth getting suspended?" Tucker shifted on the seat. "I wouldn't have to mow the neighbor's lawn again..."

"Three times..offer falls in three..."

The corners of Sam's eggplant purple lips curved into a smile. He was about to break."Two..."

"Fine!" Tucker shouted, causing a few curious looks from the surrounding tables. He blushed at the stares and lowered his voice. "I'll help you."

"You'll have the PDA by tomorrow." Sam smirked. "But about those frogs.."

Tucker groaned.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much to those of you who left comments, follows, and favorites! JH24, you are so sweet, thanks a million times over! I really appreciate all of you so much. And for any of you with questions, here are some things to know: Sam and Tucker do not know about Danny being a half ghost, and this is a slight AU story about what could have happened, had the show been made with a darker story line. With that said, enjoy!**

"I can't believe you dragged me into this." Tucker muttered for the tenth time that hour.

"Stop complaining and start scrubbing!" Sam hissed as she scrubbed at the stubborn dirt that clung to the old lockers. She wiped the sweat from her brow, then continued washing down the lockers with a wet rag. "We're not even close to finished."

"I can see that." Tucker snapped at her. He brushed off the dust that covered locker 720 in a thick blanket. The brown particles fell on his shoes and littered the marble floors. "You know, Sam, if you were going to release the frogs, you could have done it outside."

Sam huffed, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. "But did you see Mr. Lancer's face when he walked into his class to see everything covered in frogs?"

Despite his frustration, a small chuckle escaped Tucker's mouth.

"And his scream?" Tucker's chuckle turned into a full laugh. "He sounded like a girl scout!"

Sam found herself laughing as well, remembering the overweight teacher's terrified expression as slimy frogs poured from his desk.

"It was worth the detention." Sam grinned, slamming one locker shut and moving to the next. "And we have to clean the new row of lockers out, so what?"

Tucker yanked open the door to another locker, grimacing at the putrid smell that wafted through.

"I wouldn't call these 'new.'" he choked in disgust as he pulled a rotted orange from the back. "They just haven't been used in a while." Pulling his hand away, Tucker frowned at the black residue that coated his fingertips. "A very long while."

Sam replicated Tucker's repulsed expression when she came face to face with the dirtiest locker of them all. At least the others still had the lime green paint showing under the dirt, but this one was rusted horribly, the paint chipped until it was almost nonexistent.

"Ugh," Sam pried the door open, wincing at the grating squeak that followed. "I would hate to have this locker."

Tucker peeked over and squinted at the locker number. "Man," he said, pushing up his glasses. "I can barely read the number." He glanced back at the previous locker. "That one's 723, so this poor guy must be locker 724."

"It must have been twenty years since this thing has opened up!" Sam exclaimed, swatting at the air to dissipate the odor. "Must be unlucky or something."

"Is there anything inside?" Tucker asked, his face appearing behind her shoulder.

Sam frowned, a sharp gasp escaping from her parted lips. "Frogs?"

"Frogs?" Tucker lightly shoved Sam out of the way, peering at his at the scene with his own eyes. "Dead frogs."

Sam's purple lips set in a thin line of color against her pale skin. She picked up the limp body and held it gently, as if it could still feel her grasp.

"Why would anyone do this?" She growled. "And why put them in an abandoned locker? Have these people no respect for living creatures?" her face flushed furiously. Tenderly, she picked each one off the dusty locker and set them into a plastic bag where the used towels were placed. "This is cruel."

"It's probably some stupid joke, Sam." Tucker placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Somebody is just trying to mess with you."

"But who would know that I would be cleaning this exact locker at this exact time?" Sam challenged, her eyes glinting dangerous under the hall lights. Tucker shrugged, watching her carefully. "Let's just keep going. We can have our revenge later."

One slim eyebrow on Sam's face quirked up. "We?"

Tucker paled. "You. I meant you. Don't get me involved again! This is enough punishment for one week."

"Whatever." Sam's attention returned to the old locker. "Huh." She muttered, frowning at the only other object in the decomposing space.

"What?" Tucker asked offhandedly, more focused on his own job than her observations.

"There's a mirror in here."

"A mirror?" Tucker lost focus in his locker and glanced over Sam's shoulder to get a better look. "Looks really out-of-place, doesn't it?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe they forgot about it. Scoot." She pushed him back and watched as his image disappeared from the looking glass, replaced by her own ivory skin and lavender eyes. She couldn't help but agree with him. Unlike the rest of the locker, the mirror was in perfect shape-the glass unsmudged and the golden rims glistening. Sam had never been one to fawn over her own reflection, but she found herself unable to look away. It was not her own face that made Sam stare, but something about the mirror itself that captivated her.

Slowly, she raised a hand and pressed it against the glass. A chill ran through her, similar to the cold prickle she felt when she passed by Danny. The thought of him was enough to break the mirror's hold on her, and her hand dropped away.

"It's kinda weird, don't ya think?" Tucker asked.

"The mirror?"

"Yeah." Tucker tilted his head to view it at another angle. "It almost looks like it's glowing, doesn't it?"

Sam noticed it too, a faint, green glow encircling the mirror, bathing the reflections with enhanced color.

"Yeah," She whispered, transfixed by the image. "You're right."

Once again, her fingers reached out to touch it, to graze against the cold surface. Only inches away, a loud voice broke through Sam's trance, making the girl nearly jump out of her skin.

"Aww, is the Goth Freak lost?" the shrill voice made Sam want to scream. She whirled around to face her most hated schoolmate-well, _one_ of them.

"What do you want, _Paulina?_ " She hissed. The name burned on her tongue, and Sam could never speak it without sarcasm intertwined with each spoiled syllable.

"I thought the circus already left town." A friend of Paulina's whispered to the Queen Bee, just loud enough for China to hear it. "They must have forgotten to take their freak with them." The Hispanic beauty hissed back in her heavy accent. Paulina and her friends broke into giggles as Sam's cheeks burned a fiery red. Now she hated circuses even more than she already did. Unless, of course, it was the Circus Gothica, which was a totally different matter.

Sam felt the burning rage spread from her cheeks to her throat, escaping in the form of a feral growl. Before she could stop herself, Sam thrust her hand into the plastic bag and grabbed the first thing her fingers wrapped around. The cold, slimy body of a frog filled her palm. Seconds later, the frog found itself down Paulina's bubblegum pink shirt.

The girl's screech blasted throughout the empty hallway, bouncing off the hollow lockers and concrete walls. The other girl's echoed her cry and tumbled over each other to get away, leaving their leader to fend off the frogs and freaks by herself. Sam and Tucker covered their ears as her scream continued, even as Paulina sprinted away, crying and desperately clawing at her shirt.

The first bubble of laughter came from Sam. It burst free as the gothic teenager doubled over, holding her stomach as her body was racked with laughter. Tucker joined in soon after, and their laughs combined to glaze over the fading sound of Paulina's screams.

"Tucker...did..you..see her face?" Sam asked in between laughs. "Priceless!" She exclaimed. Tucker fell back on a locker, hands clasped over his stomach.

"I didn't think it was physically possible to reach an octave that high!" He chortled, his head banging against the locker with each racking laugh.

"I know!" Sam nodded. Her onyx hair flew in her face, blurring her vision with lines of black. "If we had any windows around here, I think she would have shattered them."

Sam leaned back, pressing her hand against the edge of the open locker for support. "She screamed louder than Lancer! It was like a-" Sam suddenly froze, squinting her eyes at the mirror. Her laughter faded, and her joyous smile fell. "Tucker," she asked cautiously, eyes still locked on the clear reflection. "did you see that?"

"See what? Paulina's horrified face? Yeah, it was hilarious!" Tucker answered, still clutching his stomach.

"No," Sam chided sharper than she intended. "There was something in the mirror-I swear it was-"

For the second time, Sam's sentence was cut midway as the locker door sliced through it, splitting the air with a hiss before slamming down on Sam's fingers. Sam gasped, her breath caught in her throat as pain shot up her arm.

"Tucker!" Sam cried, trying in vain to wrench open the door.

"What the hell?" the boy exclaimed. He grabbed the door handle and pulled with all he had. Sam could see the muscles in his arms straining against the light green door, but it wouldn't budge.

Sam bit her lip and whimpered as she felt the cold metal cut into her skin, grinding against the flesh of her fingers. She felt a frigid chill graze against her fingertips like an icy hand.

"Tucker!" Sam screamed again. A nauseous panic washed over her as the agony and the ice blended into one. The frozen fingers pulled at hers, and a scream built in her throat, one that would rival even Paulina's banshee shriek.

Suddenly, the ice pulled back and slipped out of her fingers. The locker door swung open, bashing Sam in the face as it flung past. Sam stumbled back and fell on her rear. With one hand, she grasped her bleeding nose, and her injured hand pressed against her chest.

"What just happened?" Tucker gasped. He stared down at his best friend in horror, watching blood pour from her nose and lip.

"That locker just attacked me!" Sam cried out. She didn't bother to cover the trembling in her voice.

"Let me see your hand." Tucker demanded. Shakily, she lifted her limp hand to his. Tucker cupped it in his own and studied the smooth white hand, now coated in crimson blood. Tucker felt nauseous just looking at the rich color. He never was quite comfortable around blood.

With the hem of his shirt, Tucker gently wiped away the red to reveal bruised fingers where the skin had turned a deep purple.

"I think your fingers are broken."

Sam whimpered.

"Broken?" She said just above a whisper. Hastily, she wiped a trickle of blood from her nose with her good hand, smearing a red streak over her lips.

"Try moving them."Tucker told her. Sam's frown deepened and her face contorted into an expression of concentration and pain. She stared intently at her purple and red fingers, begging them to move, but they merely twitched. Even the minuscule movement shot aching spasms through her hand. Sam bit her lip to hold back a cry.

"They're definitely broken," Tucker said, holding her fingers up for inspection. "Come on, we've gotta get you to the...the nurse." He could barely contain a shiver at the word. Tucker hated going to the nurse, but Sam's bloody hand and shining eyes left him without a choice.

* * *

"Nurse?" Tucker called out while his fist rapped against the office door. "You still here?" No answer.

"Maybe she left already." Sam sighed. She glanced at the clock-an hour had passed since school had been let out. "The nurse probably went home." Tucker ignored her and knocked again. And again, there was no answer.

"Come on, Tucker," Sam urged, "we can just fix it up at home. I don't want to wait here forever." A look of hesitation clouded the boy's face, but seeing the way Sam cradled her hand, so obviously hurting, he sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he said, "but I don't know much about fixing bones. We should just go to the hospit-"

Without warning, the nurse's door swung open and a girl's head popped out, her fair face perfectly framed by strands of long, tangerine hair.

"Sorry," she hastily pushed the hair back. "I was in the back and I didn't hear the-Sam?" The red-headed girl stood straight, gazing at them with turquoise eyes. "Tucker?"

"Jazz?" the two gasped in unison.

"What are you doing..." Tucker started

"In the nurse's office?" Sam finished for her shocked friend. Jazz blushed slightly, tucking her hair beneath the blue headband that matched her eyes.

"I've been trying to learn more about medicine and healing, and all that." She explained.

"Why?" Tucker asked.

"I, uh, was thinking about becoming a nurse." She stuttered, her eyes failing to meet theirs. Jazz nodded, confident at her excuse. "Yeah. A nurse."

"I thought you wanted to be a therapist or something." Sam squinted. She always remembered Jazz being a terrible liar.

"A psychologist," Jazz corrected, "and I still do. I just want to study medicine as a fallback career. Always good to have a plan B!" She laughed nervously.

"Uh, okay," Sam said slowly. She couldn't overlook the nearly panicked look in the girl's eyes. "But-"

"So what did you guys come here for?" Jazz cut in, changing the subject before more questions could be asked. "Isn't school out already?"

"Yeah," Tucker said, recovering from his shock at seeing the older Fenton again. "but we had detention, and had to clean out the lockers."

"Detention?" Jazz frowned.

"Sam's fault." Tucker clarified. Sam couldn't find an argument against that, and didn't have the energy to try.

Jazz's slim eyebrows shot up. Her lips parted, no doubt a question forming on them, but this time Sam cut her off.

"Can we just, ya know, get this thing fixed?" Sam asked, exasperation mixed with her voice as she raised her trembling hand to Jazz's eyes. "It hurts really bad now."

Jazz's eyes widened as the bloody hand came into view. "Sam!" she gasped. "What'd you do?" Jazz wrapped her own fingers around Sam's bloody ones, covering them in a warm embrace.

"I slammed them in a locker."

Jazz's surprise melted into concern, then doubt.

"A locker? Sam," Jazz's eyebrows disappeared behind her hairline. "it looks like your fingers were run over by a car. I highly doubt a locker could do this."

"It's true!" Tucker intervened. "I saw it. The locker closed on itself, and Sam's hand was in the way. It tried to kill her, I swear!" Jazz's mouth opened and closed silently. "I know it sounds crazy, Jazz, but trust me, it happened."

Jazz cast her scrutinizing gaze over him for a few seconds of silence before shaking her head and waving her hand dismissively.

"Whatever," she said, gently taking Sam's hand and leading her into the nurse's office. "Let's just get this taken care of."

Sam sat on the table, Tucker at her side while Jazz disappeared into the supplies closet to retrieve bandages. Sam cradled her hand in her lap and chewed her lip.

"Tucker?" she whispered, shooting a cautious glance at the closet. "Do you think Jazz is acting a little..weird?"

"Majorly weird." Tucker agreed quietly. "But you know, a lot has changed since we've last talked with her. You know, with her parents, and the accident, and the ghosts...this has all gotta be pretty hard on her."

Sam frowned at her lap, guilt washing over her. "Yeah.." she replied numbly. Of course Jazz wouldn't be the same as her old self; it would take more than two years to recover from what happened to her. And Danny...she wondered if he would ever recover from it. But that was beyond her; she had tried to help him, and all she got out of it was a shattered friendship.

"Okay," Jazz came back, bandages and painkiller filling her arms. "I've got the goods." She set them down and immediately started to work on Sam's hand, tenderly cleaning off the crusted blood while Tucker opened up the painkillers. Jazz tested Sam's fingers, feeling where the break was. Sam winced each time Jazz's fingers grazed against the purple skin, but she didn't pull back.

"You'll definitely need X-rays," Jazz told her. "I can set the simple breaks right now, but a few of them are more complicated. I can't risk setting them wrong." Sam nodded. Tucker handed her some pain pills and Sam gulped them down anxiously. "We'll wait a few minutes for the painkillers to kick in. In the meantime, what's been going on with you guys?" Jazz asked in an overly-perky voice.

"School." Sam answered lamely. "Broken fingers."

"Sam let a bunch of frogs free in Lancer's class." Tucker chimed in. A delighted smile graced Jasmine's face, and her laughter filled the quiet room.

"So that's why you have detention." Jazz joked. She smiled at Sam playfully. "That's the Sam I remember. Always stirring up some kind of trouble." She chuckled again, this time more quietly. "How many times did I have to bail Danny and you two out of trouble? I'm pretty sure he still owes me for a few of those times."

Sam's eyes hardened at the mention of Jazz's younger brother, and her gaze fell to the floor.

"Yeah.." Tucker said softly, all enthusiasm lost from his voice. "Good times."

"You know," Sunset hair covered Jazz's delicate face as she lowered her eyes to the ground. "I really do miss you guys, and..and I know Danny does too, even if he doesn't show it." Her eyes darted up just in time to Sam's jaw clench. Her fingers twitched, begging to ball into a fist. "Please, don't hate him for this," Jazz's teal eyes clouded, her voice growing increasingly hoarse with every word. "He's been through a lot and he..he never would have wanted this." She looked away, finding comfort in the blank white of the walls.

"We tried, Jazz." Sam said softly. "We tried to help him, to be there for him, but he shut us out." Sam gulped, struggling with the sudden stone in her throat. "I know things have been tough since your parents," Jazz winced, and Sam skipped over the subject. "..but we could have helped him, Jazz! Trust me," Sam felt her own eyes sting. "I would have done anything for Danny. If he had just.." she dropped the sentence, leaving it hanging, suspended in the air. Sam squeezed her eyes shut. She would _not_ cry.

The nurse's office was encompassed in silence; the stillness so thick, the three could almost reach out and grasp it. The only break was the unsteady beat of their breaths. After a full minute of painful silence, Jazz spoke. Her voice was so soft that it barely stood out from the silence.

"I know, Sam." She choked out. "You two are the best friends he ever had, and I'm so sorry things turned out the way they did." Jazz's head shot up, and her eyes locked on the two firmly. "But don't think for a second that he didn't appreciate you guys. That he doesn't miss you."

"He wouldn't have to miss us if he didn't push us out. He doesn't care, Jazz, he made that pretty clear."

"You don't understand!" Jazz cried. She stood so suddenly that she overturned the medicine table beside her and sent all the pill bottles crashing to the floor. She paid the mess no attention, but paced over them like they didn't even exist, wringing her hands like a worrisome mother.

Sam and Tucker both blinked in surprise. Their mouths hung open, but no sound came out. Never had they seen the girl so distressed-even when Danny had torn the head off her precious Bearbert Einstein, Jazz had never lost her peace so severely.

The three fell into another lapse of silence as Jazz rubbed her eyes and tried to steady her hysterical breathing.

"I'm sorry," she said. She plopped back in her seat and stared down at her hands, still red from the way she had been wringing them."I've been under a lot of stress lately." Her voice was void of her previous emotion, now just a hollow shell of sound.

When neither Tucker or Sam responded, Jazz forced herself to meet their eyes.

"How are you feeling, Sam?" She asked tiredly.

"B-better. I guess."

"Are you ready for me to set the bones?" Jazz inquired. She rubbed her eyes again and focused them on Sam, who bobbed her head silently. A worm of guilt wiggled through her when Sam saw the weariness in Jazz's drooping irises. Only seconds ago, they had been dancing in the light..

Sam bit down on a clean rag as Jasmine took her injured hand. Tucker wrapped his fingers around Sam's good hand, giving her a comforting squeeze. Her teeth tore into the cloth as the first bone was set into place, a few tears wetting her eyes, but she remained still.

" _Sam Manson does_ not _cry."_ She reminded herself. Still, she couldn't stop the few tears that slid down her cheeks and onto her lap. The pain of her broken fingers was enough agony already, but on top of it all, she couldn't get Jazz's frantic words out of her head.

" _But don't think for a second that he didn't appreciate you guys. That he doesn't miss you."_

" _Yeah,"_ Sam thought bitterly. _"He sure misses us."_ The thought fell in the form of a teardrop.

* * *

"You sure you'll be okay?" Tucker asked. Sam rolled her eyes.

"I can walk home by myself, Tucker. I'm a big girl."

"I know," he replied, shoving his hands far into the pockets of his green cargo pants. "I'm just a little worried about you, that's all."

"What? Cause of this?" Sam dangled her bandaged hand in front of his face. "I'm fine, Tuck. I think Jazz needs you more than I do." She glimpsed back at the nurse's door. "She needs someone to talk to."

After a second of hesitation, Tucker nodded, slowly at first, but faster as her words sunk in. "Yeah," he said. "You're probably right. She's going through a lot too. I mean, can you imagine losing both your parents at the same time?" He shuddered. Sam shook her head sadly.

"There's been quite a few times when I've wanted to kill my parents, but never like that." She stared at the closed door as if she could see through it and see into the mind of the older Fenton. Sam bit her lip, guilty recalling their conversation.

"Message me when you get home, okay?" Tucker called to her as he reached for the door handle.

"Okay."

"Don't forget!"

Sam sighed in irritation. "I won't."

Tucker disappeared behind the door and closed it behind him, leaving Sam alone in the empty hall. She shouldered her backpack and started down the long hall. She had never seen the school so desolate, so quiet. The sight was peaceful, but teetering on the edge of eery.

The sound of her own footsteps floated around her ears, the steps slightly offbeat from the tick of the clock-the only other sound that broke the silence of the empty school. She listened to the clock, trying to keep her mind off everything having to do with the Fenton family and the pain shooting through her hand. She tried to pass off the chill in her bones as a side effect of the painkillers, just as the pounding in her head was. But as the pounding grew louder, Sam began to realize that it wasn't the dull pain of a headache that sounded in her ears, but footsteps.

Sam stopped suddenly and whirled around. She expected to see Tucker there, laughing at her for being paranoid, but she was greeted by an empty hallway. The footsteps had stopped, and only the constant tick of the clock remained.

She started to turn back around, feeling extremely foolish, but a speck of green caught her peripheral vision, attracting her focus to it. Sam squinted, seeing a pile of trash about thirty feet away-no, not trash. She took a few steps closer.

As she drew near, the green shape formed into that of a frog's body, lying limp in the hall.

"That's weird," the girl whispered to herself. Then to the frog, she said, "I don't remember seeing you there."

She closed the distance between them and stooped down to pick up the body, (She couldn't just leave it, could she?) an unpleasantly familiar chill crawled up her fingers, only inches away from the deceased amphibian. She gasped and yanked her hand away. Sam decided that she could, indeed, leave the body for maintenance to take care and started on her way again. The chill released her fingers, but seemed to cling to the hair on the back of her neck. Sam let out a shaky breath and concentrated on the comforting pad of her feet and chime of the clock.

 _Tick, pat, Tick, pat, Tick, pat pat, Tick, pat pat, Tick, pat pat.._

Sam froze, but the other set of footsteps didn't stop.

"Tucker?" she called out nervously. No answer. Her eyes scanned the hall for his schoolbus-yellow shirt and faded cherry beret, but all she saw was a crumpled green blob, still and tiny. A frog.

It was closer than it had been before, only about fifteen feet away. A trembling breath escaped Sam's lips and she turned back, her feet rapidly bringing her closer to the door. No footsteps chased her that time, but even though Sam was perfectly in shape, the short run left her nearly breathless.

The door was only a few feet away when she stumbled over something, crushing her broken hand on the floor as she fell. Sam cried out, gritting her teeth as agony gripped her hand with a hand of its own. She bit her trembling lip. He vision grew blurry with tears that she refused to let fall.

Sam took a deep breath to steady herself, but it was striped away as a rush of cold encompassed her, stealing the breath from her lungs. Choking, Sam staggered to her feet. Through foggy eyes, she saw the object she had tripped over. A whole pile of dead frogs, all staring straight at her with eyes of coal. Even as she made the observation, another appeared like they were moving at their own will, but one look at the still, lifeless eyes told her that the creatures were long dead.

A slimy weight fell upon her shoulder, and the arctic shiver it sent down her spine told her it was another amphibian carcass. Sam threw the cadaver from her and ran, tripping over her own legs as she sprinted for the door. Faintly, she heard the sound of more bodies slapping against the marble floors of the school, but she never looked back to check. She ran, and didn't stop until she collapsed at the doorstep of her own home.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam blinked her heavy eyelids, only half listening to the mumble of conversation that filled the crowded hallway. She caught only little bits of the latest gossip as she passed, but each person supplied just enough to give her a full story.

"Paulina said he looked like an angel. His hair was like.."

"Completely white! Like snow..."

"And his eyes were.."

"..totally glowing..."

"..a neon green color. That's what Paulina said!"

Snow white hair and glowing green eyes.

 _"Making up rumors about Phantom again. Doesn't she have anything better to do?"_ When Paulina wasn't too busy crushing people's hopes and dreams, she was talking about Phantom. The Ghost Boy's credibility was always in question, especially because he refused to answer questions from the reporters, leaving his true intentions a mystery. Paulina, however, had unwavering confidence in the ghost. In fact, she was completely infatuated with him, and she made sure everyone knew it.

Sam pulled up to her locker and took out her books. Her drooping eyes fell upon a button that she had designed herself during Freshman Year. She tried to pass them around the school, but her campaign failed miserably, leaving Sam with more "Save the Frogs" buttons than she could deal with. The frogs bulging eyes stared back at her, and for a moment, Sam swore they shone with the glazed over glare of death. She shook her head violently.

 _"It was only a dream, Sam."_ She told herself. _"A nightmare."_

Even as she thought the words, the gothic girl glanced down at her fingers, still perfectly wrapped in pristine, white linen.

 _"Okay, maybe the broken fingers happened, but not the other stuff."_

The dream had obscured her memory so much that she couldn't remember what had really happened after Tucker left. It couldn't have been real, though. Right?

"Have you heard the latest?" Tucker asked, leaning against the locker next to hers. Sam forced her books into her backpack.

"About Paulina and the angel?" Sam snorted. "Most of it."

"Not an angel, Sam," Tucker chided playfully. "the Phantom."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Of course it's Phantom. Paulina only talks about him and herself."

"Apparently he saved her life. And was, I quote," Tucker curved his fingers into air quotations, "dreamy and brave and totally in love with me." He fluttered his lashes and sighed in a way that resembled Paulina a little too closely.

Sam snorted and zipped up her bag. It wasn't that she had anything against this Phantom character; actually, Sam found him to be quite the interesting case. It was just the fact that _Paulina_ worshiped the ground he walked on...or floated above..

Tucker shrugged. "Paulina won't shut up about him."

"She should just stop talking in general." Sam sneered. "She would sound smarter with her lips sealed."

The bell resounded throughout the hall as Sam slammed her locker shut, the thought of the preppy Hispanic turning her sour mood into downright bitter.

"See you after class." Tucker called over his shoulder. Sam shouldered her backpack and cast her eyes upon the clock, the time teller's famous _tick_ covered by the sound of bustling students. She scowled at the clock, not because she was going to be late, but because the _tick_ seemed to have embedded itself in her ears. She shook her head to rid the noise, but the Phantom sound followed her all the way to the door of her first period.

* * *

Sam's day only descended from that point. Not only did she forget her Pre-Calculus homework on her home desk, but she also got a C on her biology test, and Lancer gave out _another_ partner assignment in English. Though Sam did actually enjoy the subject of English, the class was ruined by the presence of three of her least favorite people. Valerie sat only two seats in front of her, Paulina, three seats behind, and Danny Fenton in the very back. Granted, most of the time he wasn't there, and if he was, he pretended he wasn't, but his very being still turned Sam sour. Today _would_ be the day that he decided to show up for class.

"And no," Mr. Lancer hushed the bubbling excitement of the class. "you cannot choose your own partners. I already have them assigned." A collective moan escaped the class. The overweight teacher decided to ignore the class' obvious displeasure and started reading names off a list.

"Kwan with Michael...Mikey, with Liz, Paulina with Daniel.." Sam couldn't help but smirk as two of her irritations were knocked out together. "Valerie with Sam.." Immediately, her smile dropped.

 _"Great,"_ Sam mentally groaned as Valerie made her way back to her. " _Way to be a buzz kill, Lancer."_

Valerie plopped down in the seat beside Sam and pushed the paper towards her. _"Metaphors, Similes, and Allusions,"_ Sam let a small, relieved sigh escape her lips. _"At least I know these."_

"So we gotta define the terms and use them in sentences." Valerie clarified.

"I know," Sam didn't bother hiding the disdain in her voice. "Lancer just said that."

"Just wanted to make sure you understood."

"I'm not stupid, Valerie." Sam's fingers twitched painfully as she tried to wrap them around the pencil. She could almost feel the bones grinding against each other. She decided to follow the doctor's orders for once and teach herself to be ambidextrous.

"Could've fooled me." Valerie mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Sam hissed through gritted teeth-partially from pain, and partially from raw irritation.

"Look, Manson," Valerie snapped, staring her down. Sam, not being one to shy from a challenge, stared right back. "I don't like you, and you don't like me. We both know that. So let's just get this finished, okay?"

Sam studied her for a few long seconds before replying. "Fine."

"Fine."

Valerie picked up her pencil and got to work, while Sam fiddled with hers, trying to write with her bad hand. Her brow furrowed in concentration. Each letter took a decade to draw out, and still turned out sloppy, like the writing of a toddler. Sam growled in frustration.

"Do you need help?" Valerie's voice chimed in. Sam noted a restrained hint of annoyance resting beneath the words, but Valerie's face showed no sign of emotion.

"No." Sam said pointedly, attempting to write her name on the paper. A cherry blush spread across her face when the simple word came out indecipherable.

"Uh huh." Valerie said doubtfully. She took the pencil from Sam's hand. "I'll do the writing."

Sam couldn't help the little wave of relief that spread through her. But she couldn't let Valerie see her victory, so Sam leaned back in the chair, folding her arms over her chest.

"A metaphor is a comparison of two things without using 'like' or 'as.'" She stated.

"I know," Valerie said. A smirk formed on her lips. "Lancer just said that." Sam clenched her good hand into a fist. "Give an example of a simile." Valerie read off the next question. Sam's lavender eyes fell to her bandages.

"The linen is as white as a morning dove." Valerie nodded in response, giving an example of her own. "Paulina's mouth moves as much as a duck's ass."

Sam snorted a laugh. Valerie joined in a second later and peeked at the butt of the joke behind Sam's shoulder. Sam cast a quick glance as well-just enough to see Paulina's mouth moving rapidly, and a vacant look on Danny's face. His eyes reminded Sam of the glazed over eyes of the dead frogs.

"I wonder if she knows he's not listening." Valerie pondered aloud. Sam rolled her eyes.

"Their both so clueless, it wouldn't surprise me if she didn't."

A light pink dusted the top of Valerie's cheeks.

"Danny's not as dumb as you think." She said quietly. Her lashes rested low over her eyes as she studied the desk. The amusement flickered out in Sam's eyes, replaced by a cold glare.

"And you know him so well, don't you?"

Sharp, emerald eyes flashed against challenging amethyst ones.

"That's just my opinion." Valerie squinted at her. "I didn't ask for yours."

"Whatever." Sam replied. She didn't push for an argument, mostly because she recognized the look in Valerie's eyes as the same one that haunted Sam for years. She also knew that it was a hopeless battle, because fighting for his affection was like getting in a fist fight with a brick wall. "I bet Paulina is boring him with her insanity."

Some of the ice melted from Valerie's eyes. Having the same enemies could really be an ice-breaker.

"Probably. Can you hear her?" she asked. Sam tilted her head back, straining to catch a few words.

"So cool," and "muy guapo," and "romantic" filled Sam's ears. She repeated them to Valerie in a bad Hispanic accent. "Still talking about that ghost boy." she concluded.

Immediately, the ice froze over Valerie again.

"Phantom." She gripped the pencil so hard that Sam worried she would snap it. And that was the only pencil Sam had left.

"What?" Sam chuckled. "You know the handsome, charming ghost boy as well?"

Valerie shot Sam a burning glare before returning to work.

"Definition of allusion." She demanded.

 _"Yikes."_ Sam thought. _"Sensitive subject."_ She chalked it up to Valerie's overall hatred for ghosts. Most of Amity agreed that Phantom was more of a hero than a threat, but Valerie still thought otherwise. As much as Sam wanted to know why, one look at Valerie's cold eyes told her to let the subject go, just this once.

* * *

"So Valerie knows the ghost guy too?" Tucker asked. Sam made a gagging sound as his fork dug into the tender meatloaf. Juice dribbled out the side, making Sam feel sick to her stomach.

"Seems like it." Sam picked idly at her salad. "And she didn't seem as lovestruck as Paulina."

"How does she know him?"

"Didn't say. She barely said anything, but I got the vibe that she had some serious vendetta against the guy." Sam shrugged. "Maybe she knew him before he died."

"I don't remember anyone our age dying, though." Tucker noted.

"The media doesn't tell us everything. They hide the important things, like the cruel, unnecessary treatment of farm animals. Those liars coat everything in-"

"I got it, Sam." Tucker cut her off. He wasn't in the mood for one of her long spiels. He never really was, but especially today, when there was important rumors to be heard. "Back to Phantom."

Sam glared at him under low lashes, but didn't object.

"When did the rumors about him start? Freshman year, right?" Sam questioned.

"Same time as the other ghosts appeared. Right after the, uh, Fenton accident."

"Hm." Sam murmured to her salad. Tucker suddenly cleared his throat.

"Speaking of Fentons.." He whispered to Sam, his eyes widening at something over her shoulder. She didn't even have time to check the source of his concern when she felt the bench lower slightly. Sam glanced over to see someone sitting beside her-remarkable event, considering that no one wanted to sit with Sam and Tucker. The freaks and the geeks. The nobodies and rejects.

Her eyes traveled up the visitor's figure, starting with worn out tennis shoes to faded jeans and a white tee-shirt. A familiar dread settled in her stomach.

"Uh, hey, Danny." Tucker said uneasily.

"Hey, Tucker. Can I sit with you guys?" Danny asked nonchalantly, as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Tucker nodded slowly.

"Yeah, sure."

Sam shot him a murderous glare "but...why?" Tucker's voice grew quiet as the conversation from the rest of the cafeteria died off. Sam didn't have to raise her head to know that the whole school was watching them. "I-I mean, you don't usually come to lunch." Tucker stuttered.

"I'm usually making up school work at lunch, but I don't feel like it today." Danny responded. Tucker nodded. His mouth parted, and his brow furrowed questioningly, but no inquiry came out. Words failed him, so he filled his mouth with school meatloaf instead. He wiggled under the blanket of silence that hung over the tables, but Sam remained stock-still, almost lifeless.

Through the corner of her eye, Sam studied the red oval that rested on Danny's chest. It was familiar, yet almost painful to look at. She had seen that shirt countless times-most of those times it was filled with grass, dirt, and food fight stains, but now it sported an immaculate white. The sight of it made her nauseous, and somewhere in between furious and depressed.

She saw his body shift under the folds of white, turning to face her. She heard his voice, but she couldn't seem to comprehend his words. Her eyes felt drawn to his face, but she refused to give him that much attention. She silently mulled over the question he asked her, needing a painfully long time to process each word into a coherent sentence.

Finally, the syllables all fell into place and the fog cleared from her mind. _"What happened to your fingers?"_ He had asked.

"I broke them." Sam replied, making sure to keep her voice as monotone and distant as possible.

"How'd you do that?" He asked. Sam felt a blush paint over her pale cheeks; there was no way she would tell him that. The stupid accident would really interfere with the tough, emotionless facade she was trying to put on.

Sam responded by stabbing her fork into the salad, tearing through the green leaf and clanging against the plate. The whine of metal against metal rang over the cafeteria, cutting through the silence like a knife. She expected Danny to turn away from her and move on, but he either didn't notice her icy attitude, or didn't care because he stayed facing her. Though Sam dodged his eyes, she could still feel them boring down on her face, refusing to leave without an answer.

Sam felt a light wave of relief when Tucker spoke, but the feeling was immediately washed away by the content of his comment.

"She, uh, smashed them in a locker." He said quietly. Sam's eyes flashed with rage. The computer geek winced under her hateful glare and squirmed in his seat.

"Tucker!" She hissed.

"You weren't talking! Someone had to." He defended himself. Sam growled and he shrunk back.

"I've done that before." Danny said easily, as if he was completely oblivious to Sam's outburst. "Never that bad though."

At his light-hearted response, Sam forgot her goal to avoid him and glanced up at his face, which was graced by a small, playful smile. She almost smiled back, but then she remembered that she was supposed to hate him.

"Jazz told me some of the breaks were pretty bad. Did you get them checked out?" Danny asked. This time, Sam couldn't make herself avoid his gaze again, and like Medusa, she was pulled into his eyes. Except she was the one trying to turn him to stone.

One look at him reminded Sam of how much he had changed in two years-he had grown plenty, his hair had gotten a bit longer, and his body had filled out the tee-shirt that used to hang baggily on his shoulders. But his eyes were the same soft, crystalline irises that reflected the bright hue of a summertime sky. His eyes had always been large, conveying every thought, every emotion to anyone who spared them a glance.

The eyes blinked back at her, and Sam felt some of the cold pressure disperse from her chest. It melted, and sunk from her heart to her stomach, gradually growing warmer with each blink of his cerulean eyes. Sam felt captivated by them, like she was staring into a hypnotist's pendulum rather than the eyes of her ex-best friend.

"Sam?"

Danny's voice snapped her back to attention. She immediately dropped her eyes, horrified that he would see the crimson blush spreading across her face.

 _"Damn it."_ She thought stubbornly.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Hearing the concern in his voice, she felt another shard of ice drip away. She didn't have to see his eyes to know that they held the same worried expression that made his eyebrows furrow together in a light frown. She had seen that look many times, and didn't want to feel the affects it would surely have on her. Sam cursed her racing heart and fought down her panic. She had nearly blown two years of bitterness from one look into his unnaturally welcome eyes.

"Why are you asking so many questions?" She growled, her embarrassment rapidly morphing into anger. Her temper was slightly satisfied by the rosy flush that washed over Danny's cheeks.

"I just want to know-" he started, but Sam cut him off. She glared at the spot between his eyebrows so that she could appear to stare him down, but not have to actually meet his eyes.

"You can stop acting like you care, Danny. You've made it pretty clear that you don't." She thundered, making no attempt to hush her voice. Her sharp retort filled the silent cafeteria.

Danny's blush deepened and he studied her with those big eyes, so filled with guilt and sorrow that Sam fought down a whimper. She was _not_ going to break down. Not in front of the whole school. Not in front of _him._

Sam watched his lips part and waited what seemed like an eternity for his words to spill out. The entire student body leaned closer to hear what he was going to say. His voice came out soft, so quiet that Sam could barely hear it, even though she sat right next to him.

"I never said that I didn't care, Sam."

She watched the shadows and light hues dance in his eyes. They looked so genuine, but she couldn't believe them to be true. The old Danny was genuine, but this Danny was different. A stranger. He could never be the same boy Sam had once loved. Sam felt like a hand was reaching through her rib cage and squeezing her heart. A feeling passed over her that she didn't quite understand. She felt both furious and mournful, betrayed, even. Sam grit her teeth against the unsteady pulse in her chest. She was losing control.

 _"Pull it together, Sam!"_ the little voice in her head screamed at her. _"He doesn't care about you."_

He was still watching her with those huge, puppy dog eyes. She wanted to scream, but that would only make her situation worse. Sam forced the scream down, and a cold, humorless laugh fell from her lips.

"You didn't have to." She replied bitterly. Sam swung her backpack onto her shoulders and stormed past him, leaving her salad virtually untouched. Her footsteps were the only noise in the crowded room. A second pair of footsteps joined her, but Tucker's voice interrupted the steps.

"Just let her go, dude." He said. The second pair of footsteps faltered to a halt, and Sam didn't bother to glance back as she burst out of the cafeteria doors.


	4. Chapter 4

Out of all the furnishings she had in her extravagantly decorated room, Sam couldn't tear her eyes from the old wooden desk that sat in the corner. Really, it was what was inside the desk that kept Sam's eyes darting back. Despite her attempts to distract herself, Sam kept finding herself staring down at the wood surface, her hand reaching for the handle. Eventually, she gave up trying to stop herself.

Sam slid open the drawer, pulling out a picture she had buried long ago and held it delicately between her fingers. He gazed back at her, a huge smile lighting up his face as he dangled his arms over her and Tucker's shoulders.

She traced over the nick in the photo-a small cut at the top. It was the incision she had made when she had tried to rip Danny out of the picture. Several times she tried, but at each attempt, his smile beamed back at her, stopping Sam from ever finishing the task. She tried to hate him, tried with all her soul, but she could never beat down the part that still loved him. With each glimpse of him, that part fought against her fiercely, not willing to let him slip away.

Sam felt a smile tug at her lips, despite her opposition to it. She could never tear the photo, no matter how furious she was. It was the last picture of the old Danny that she used to know. The Danny that she grew up with and fell in love with. Her Danny.

She recalled the memory like it had only been the day before; it was just before the start of ninth grade, and the last time she had been completely happy. It was before Danny had stopped being her friend, before he had stopped smiling.

 _The flash of the camera hurt her eyes, but it didn't faze Sam's huge grin. Danny slipped his arm from her shoulders, much to her disappointment. Tucker took his camera back from the kind woman who offered to take the picture and proudly showed it to his two friends._

 _"I want a copy." Sam said, taking the camera to study the picture looking back at her._

 _"Me too." Danny added. He peeked over Sam's shoulder, unconsciously bringing a blush to the goth girl's cheeks._

 _"I'll make us all a copy." Tucker grinned deviously. " For a price."_

 _Sam delivered a sharp kick to his shins, at which Tucker cried out and grabbed at his legs. He glared at her under the bright red beret he had just bought and pouted his lips._

 _"Fine," he sighed. "For free. But only because I like you guys."_

 _"You mean only because Sam has steel-toed boots that she's not afraid to use." Danny shook his head, his bright smile still in place. Tucker shrugged in acceptance._

 _"I've gotta get going. I'll see you guys later, okay?" Danny detached himself from the two and picked up his bag, filled with notebooks, pencils, and other newly bought school supplies._

 _"I thought you were coming for dinner at my place?" Tucker frowned, and his eyebrows pinched together behind his glasses. "You know, the three of us celebrate the last bit of summer before we're forced into prison?"_

 _"You mean highschool?"_

 _"Same thing."_

 _Danny chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry, guys. I promised I'd help my parents finish up their latest invention. They want it done before school starts."_

" _The ghost portal?" Sam's eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs. Danny's parents had been rambling about it for months, but she had no idea it was so close to being finished._

 _"Yeah. They're gonna try to start it up today." Danny gave her and Tucker a quick hug._

" _Dude, could we see it?" Tucker asked, his mischievous grin returning._

 _"I dunno." Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not exactly stable yet."_

 _Seeing the disappointment on his friends' faces, he quickly added: "But I'll show you guys when it's done, okay?"_

 _"Okay." The other two answered, nodding excitedly._

 _With that, Danny disappeared down the street, and never truly came back._

What happened after that still haunts the town, even two years later.

"Samantha, honey!"A shrill voice jarred Sam from her memories. Her door burst open and her mother stood in the doorway, without knocking, of course. "Are you ready for the party?"

"No." Sam answered bluntly. Mrs. Manson sauntered in wearing her new peach dress that seemed to scream dollar signs. Her white-gloved hands flew from her round hips to her cherry lips when she saw Sam crouched on the floor in navy blue sweats.

"Sammy!" Her mother gasped. "Where is the new dress I bought you? The party starts in less than an hour."

Sam didn't even spare her mother a glance, her eyes still locked on the old picture.

"I don't care about your stupid parties or your ugly dresses."

Sam blocked out the sound of her mother's whines and shouts-a skill that had been achieved through years of tormenting speeches on how she should be "lady-like" and "more civilized" and "less depressing." In the Manson house, individuality was not highly regarded.

Sam had been completely oblivious to her mother's rant until the picture was yanked out of her hands and her view was clouded with an uncomfortably bright dress.

"Mom!" Sam shouted, jumping to her feet. "Give that back!"

Mrs. Manson turned her back to her furious daughter, studying the picture while trying to dodge Sam's reaching hands. The woman tutted and held the picture up as if gifting it to the ceiling.

"Sammy, dear," she whined. "You're not still hung up over that no-good Fenton boy, are you?" Mrs. Manson asked, her question dripping with blatant disapproval. Sam's face turned as red as her mother's lipstick.

"NO." She barked. Sam stole the picture from her mother's fingertips and gave the woman a fierce glare.

"Sam, you know he's trouble!"

"You don't even know him." Sam argued.

"And you still do? I thought he left you in the dust, Sammiekins."

"I-he-we-" Sam stuttered. _"Why am I even defending him?"_ She thought miserably. _"Mom's right-for once."_

Sam sighed wearily, gripping the photo tightly in one hand, and running the other hand down the front of her face. "Don't you have a party to take care of?"

"Yes," Mrs. Manson answered happily, her voice far too preppy for Sam's liking. "A party which I expect you to attend." She added. "Hopefully, in something less..." Sam's mother looked her daughter up and down, a look of disgust plastered on her face. "hideous."

Sam clenched her teeth as her mother twirled back to the door.

"I'm not wearing the dress." Sam called out to the disappearing figure.

"Wear it or you're grounded, Sammiekins."

The door slammed shut behind Mrs. Manson, leaving Sam alone with an old photo, a painfully bright dress, and a scream building in her throat.

Sam hid in the corner of the dining hall, careful not to bump into anyone in fear of smearing the black spray paint that coated the layers of her once hot-pink dress. She watched the wealthy couples dance and exchange fake smiles, occasionally nibbling at their expensive finger food. They all looked so perfect. Each one sported an intricate dress, heels higher than Sam's GPA, and long, flowing hair. Sam hated them all.

She snarled at anyone who dared look at her, and if anybody even _tried_ to talk to her-

"Hey, Sam."

Sam whirled around to face the unfamiliar voice. Her eyes grazed over a simple scarlet dress and waist-length golden hair. Sam recognized the face, but the girl seemed...different.

"Star?" Sam couldn't conceal the shock from her voice.

"Hi." Star responded quietly, almost shyly.

"What are you doing here?"

"My parents asked me to come with them." She avoided Sam's eyes. "I haven't been out much lately."

Sam squinted at her, watching her every move under her scrutinizing gaze. Never, in all her years, had she seen the popular girl, Paulina's right hand, the blonde princess, act so...so _human. "Star being shy? Quiet? Not obnoxiously rude?"_ Something was definitely not right.

"You okay, Star?" Sam asked. _"Not like I care or anything.."_

"I'm not bad." the girl replied, her teal eyes staring down at her shoes.

"And, uh, how are your legs?"

Star shifted her weight and winced briefly. She hid the pained expression quickly, but Sam still saw it.

"They're getting better. They still hurt sometimes, but it's not terrible." The girl smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. "I should be thankful. The doctor told me I shouldn't be able to walk."

Sam's jaw went slack, her eyes glazed over in surprise.

"Holy crap, Star," she said, a shocking amount of concern in her voice. Sam had never been a fan of Paulina's shadow, but she would never wish something like that to happen to her. "I didn't think it was that serious." Sam, finished, finally getting over her stupor.

Star nodded, slightly tugging at her simple dress. "I won't be going near the bleachers anytime soon, I can tell you that." A small smile tugged at Star's lips, but her eyes remained stoic. They looked scared, haunted even. Sam nodded back, not sure whether to laugh or not. Was it polite to laugh at someone's trauma? Eventually, Sam figured it was better than the awkward silence she was experiencing, so she let a soft chuckle escape her lips.

"Since your..accident, no one has even gotten close to the top row on the bleachers." Sam said carefully, keenly watching Star's eyes for any sign of offense.

"Really?" Star asked thoughtfully. Sam felt like the blonde girl was talking more to herself than to Sam.

"Yeah. You know how easily the teenage mind can be influenced." Sam grinned a little, relishing at the stupidity of her fellow peers. "They buy into all the rumors and superstitions."

"Rumors?" Star asked, her delicate eyebrows arching slightly.

"You'll probably hear them all when you go back to school," Sam noticed Star's face fall at the mention of their school, not that she could blame her... "They think the school's haunted or something. That some ridiculous ghost is going after, you know, popular kids."

Sam watched the blood drain from Star's face, her flawless tan skin transforming into a morbid pale. Her teal eyes searched anything that wasn't Sam.

"Star?" Sam leaned towards the girl, peering at her distracted eyes. The girl only responded by clutching her dress tightly.

"Star? You look like you're gonna hurl. Hey?" Sam waved her hands in front of the girl's face. "STAR?" Sam shouted. She gripped the panicked blonde by the shoulders, gently shaking her. By the sheer volume of Sam's voice, Star snapped back to attention. She slowly unclenched her trembling fingers.

"Sorry." She blushed, laughing nervously. "The pain medication, you know? Sometimes it makes me a little queasy and distant and.. and..."

"It's fine," Sam cut off the girl's rambling. "You need to sit down?"

Star hesitated, her wide eyes shifting between Sam and her shoes. "Yeah," she said finally. "I think I should sit down."

Sam scanned her packed house, noticing that all the chairs and couches were already filled with guests. Mentally, Sam winced, already regretting the offer she was about to give. She sighed through her nose.

"My room would be quieter, if that would help."

Star nodded her head mutely.

"Okay.." Sam muttered under her breath. She took the trembling girl by the elbow, leading her through the maze of chattering guests. As they reached the door to Sam's bedroom, she gave Star an icy glare.

"Look, Star," she waited to speak until their eyes met. "Nobody goes into my room, so if you tell anyone about this-"

"I won't." the girl replied quickly. Their eyes locked, amethyst eyes holding the gaze of teal ones. Sam squinted, searching for any trace of the backstabbing, spoiled girl she had grown used to seeing, but none of that showed. For a minute, Sam thought she was looking at a real girl, not a Barbie-doll wanna be.

Satisfied with Star's genuine expression, Sam pushed open the door of her bedroom and walked in, immediately feeling the relaxing effects of her lavender candles. She slid open her window to let the breeze in before casting a expectant glare at Star, who was obliviously studying the dark decor of Sam's bedroom.

"You can sit down, you know." Sam couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice, but Star didn't seem to notice.. Star dropped her eyes to Sam, who pointed to the large bed. "It's not going to attack you."

Star blushed and sat down, instantly sinking into the soft comforter.

"Thanks, Sam." she said quietly. Sam still couldn't get over the fact that Star was calling her by her name, instead of "freak" and "loser" and all those nice things. After Sam failed to reply, the girl shifted her weight and continued. "I know I used to be awful to you, and..I want to say I'm sorry. I know I'm probably the last person you want to see,"

 _"Not the absolute last,"_ Sam mused. _"But close."_

"I don't want to be that girl anymore, Sam. All those things I said to you, and Mikey, and-and Tucker, and.." She wrung her hands like she was trying to tear the skin off. Star's eyes squeezed closed as she took a ragged breath. "You never deserved the way I treated you. None of them did."

Sam stood stock-still, leaning against her lavender colored wall. For the second time that night, Star had shocked the gothic girl into silence, which was quite an accomplishment because Sam Manson _always_ had something to say.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She snapped her jaws shut and simply glowered at the girl sitting on her bed with a pained, yet genuine expression coating her delicate features. Star's eyes remained squeezed shut, her lips pressed in a firm line. Sam took a huffed breath and tried again.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Sam's lilac eyes narrowed into slits. Star's eyes, however, flew open and grew into wide pools of teal.

"No-"

"So there's not some recording device hidden in your bra? This is just some prank to make me look like an idiot, isn't it? Turn the Goth Freak into the school laughing stock?" She spat. This time, it was Star who was speechless, resorted to opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. After several failed attempts at defending herself, Star dropped her eyes to her lap. Sam scoffed and looked away from the pity scene.

"I-I know it's not f-fair to expect you to believe m-me, after all that I've done to you, but, please," Star pleaded, her aqua eyes nearly overflowing with tears. The hysteria in her voice wrenched Sam's eyes back in Star's direction. Before she knew it, Sam was sitting on the bed next to her. "I don't want to be your enemy anymore. I'm not a bully. I'm not, Sam. I didn't mean it! I didn't-" Star collapsed into Sam's arms, sobbing into the girl's dress. Sam stared down at her, once again, thrown into a stupor of complete and utter shock as Star wept, her whole body trembling. She shook her head furiously in Sam's shoulder, muttering unintelligibly as hot tears poured on Sam's shoulders.

Sam's ears strained to make out the words that Star choked into her shoulder. They were muted and strangled, and Sam could only catch a few at a time.

"..not..a bully..I'm sorry...I'm _sorry._.please... ..bully...bully..bully.."

"Star.." Sam whispered slowly, in the calmest voice she could muster, given the unusual circumstance. "Tell me what's going on."

Star only shook her head more furiously, continuing to wail.

"Star, please, you're kinda freaking me out." Sam tenderly pulled a blonde strand from the girl's face. It was drenched and plastered to Star's pale cheeks by her own tears.

"I'm sorry.."

"Yeah, you said that."

More uncontrollable weeping..

"Star," Sam sighed softly, pulling the girl's head from her shoulder. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

Star nodded suddenly, taking a step back and wiping her eyes on her dress. In addition to the large splatters of tear drops adorning the scarlet fabric, a few blotches of black paint had rubbed off of Sam's dress, making the girl look like an overgrown lady bug. Sam decided not to mention that, in fear of another emotional outbreak.

"Sam, I know we aren't on the best terms, but..but I need your help." Star stuttered out as she wiped at the streaks of mascara and black spray paint running down her cheeks. "I'm not asking you to trust me. I just need someone that I can trust." Her light eyes, glassy and bloodshot, bored pleadingly into Sam's extremely confused ones.

"Okay." Sam said softly. She pulled a tissue from her nightstand, gingerly placing it in Star's hand. Perhaps she would have responded differently in the past, but the last two years had brought her enough tears and heartbreak that she couldn't stand by and watch the same thing happen to someone else. Even someone who had treated her like dirt."Okay." She said again, more confidently this time. "You can trust me."

Star nodded, her eyes shining with tears. She took a deep breath.

"I'm going to sound completely crazy, but please, just hear me out." Star gripped one of Sam's hands like it was her lifeline. "I just need a few minutes." Star looked at her fearfully, as if she was afraid that Sam would disappear. Sam twirled her hand into a circular motion. _Continue.._

The blonde girl nodded, reassuring herself before continuing.

"The rumors you heard ab-about the ghost...they're true."

Sam blinked.

"Come again?"

"Paulina told me that two more people have had accidents. First it was me, then Dash, and now Brittney."

"They could just be accidents, Star," Sam tried her best to assure the frantic girl, but assuages only made the girl pull at her tear matted hair. "Dash got hurt during football, and I heard Brittney just had a cheer accident-"

"And you think I just _fell_ off the top bleacher and shattered both of my legs?" Star asked. Sam was taken back by the fierce glint in her light blue eyes. She'd never seen someone look so confident, yet so haunted at the same time. "I was _pushed_ , Sam. I felt it."

"Did someone bump into you?"

"NO!" Star shrieked, her breathing grew rapid. Her whole body shook. "No," she repeated, a few notches quieter. "Nobody was that close to me. And just before it happened, it was his voice. It was _him_."

"Who is 'him'?" Sam questioned.

"The ghost." Star replied, looking at Sam as if she had just asked the most obvious question in the world. "He'd been following me for days, Sam. He kept whispering to me, watching me. I thought I was going crazy. And then, he went quite for a while, and I thought he was gone, but I was up on the bleachers and suddenly he was there again. He called me that name again, and the next thing I knew, I was falling."

"And then what?" Sam bit down the curiosity and unease that swelled in her stomach. Any other day, she would have cast Star's story away as nothing but a lie, but the terror in her voice, that look in her eyes...there were some things Sam couldn't ignore, even if they came from the previous princess of Casper High.

"And then there was a lot of pain, and screaming. People were calling my name. I just knew I couldn't feel my legs, but my whole body felt cold, like I had just jumped in ice water." Star closed her eyes in thought. "I kept hearing that word, over and over again." Her eyelids snapped open again, revealing desperate teal eyes. "I'm not, Sam. Tell me I'm not."

"Not what?"

"A bully." Star whispered the word as if the mere sound of it was evil.

"Is that what he called you?" Sam inquired.

"For days. He would follow me around, calling me a bully. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was there. I would get these horrible chills, and then he would whisper that to me."

Sam shook her head, plopping down on the bed. She laid back and stared at the dark canopy that draped over her bedposts.

"I'm not saying I don't believe you," she started, giving Star a meaningful look, "but it just all sounds so weird. I mean, a ghost haunting a ghost hunting academy? That's a little reckless, even for a ghost. Don't you think?" She felt the bed shift as Star laid down next to her.

"That's what I thought. That's why I put it off for so long. It just didn't make sense, but..." she sighed wearily. "It really happened."

The two girls fell into silence, both contemplating the thought of a ghost bold enough to haunt the one place that threatened its very existence. Sam chuckled softly.

 _"Always expect the unexpected in Amity Park."_

"Sam?" Star's voice broke through the Goth girl's thoughts. Sam's eyebrows shot to her hairline; for the first time that night, Star sounded _hopeful_.

"Yeah?" she replied numbly.

"Do you think... Danny could help us, er, me?"

Sam tensed, her breath catching at the name.

"Danny?" Sam said the name cautiously, like it was a vial of poison against her lips.

"Well," Star stared at her hands as she wrung them in her lap. "this is kind of his gig. He hunts ghosts, doesn't he?" She dared a glance back up at Sam. " He'll know what to do."

Sam resisted the urge to grind her teeth. _Of course_ she wanted to go running to Danny. Like he cared what happened to them.

"He's a busy guy," Sam responded coolly, biting down all the other bitter thoughts she had regarding the young ghost hunter. "he probably doesn't have time for our problems."

Star squirmed, sinking deeper into the blankets.

"But it's _his_ school. You would think that would be top priority. Especially with the headmaster being his guardian."

Sam only snorted. Star paused a second, and her eyes squinted in deep reminiscence.

"Didn't you two used to be friends? Like, inseparable?" she asked.

"That was a long time ago."

"Yeah," Star said, regaining some of the confidence she had lost during her ghostly explanation. She propped herself up on one elbow. "Tucker used to call you two 'lovebirds' or something. It was really cute. What happened?"

Sam was too preoccupied trying to reign in her seething fury to answer. She buried her face in the dark purple blankets, breathing in the smell of calming lavender...lavender..not Danny...just lavender..

She had to pull her face from the blankets to get much needed oxygen, only to rebury herself when she heard that Star was still talking. _"And I was just starting to like her."_ Sam mentally groaned.

"I always thought you guys would end up together. Do you still talk? Ever? I couldn't imagine just losing a friend like that-and you guys were so close. Do you-"

"Star?" Sam cut her off mid sentence. "We're here to talk about your problems, not mine, remember?" she hissed. Her stomach turned in guilt at the sight of Star's crestfallen face, but she forced herself to ignore it.

"Right," Star answered, her face flushed slightly. "Sorry. It's just good to get my mind off the ghost topic, you know."

"Yeah," Sam answered with a nod. _"I know how you feel.."_ she thought about all the different techniques she had used to avoid the topic of her childhood friend. Most of them included cold, sarcastic comments so that questioner would walk away. "We don't have to talk about your accident anymore right now," Sam assured her, "but I'm going to need more details later."

"Okay." Star nodded. Sam noticed a wave of relief wash over the girl's face, then a small grin. "Can we talk about-"

"Not Danny." Sam interrupted coldly. Star let out a quiet sigh.

"Fine..but I'm gonna need more details too." One look at Sam's stony face and Star faltered. "Eventually?"

"Don't count on it." Sam grumbled. "He's as much of a mystery to me as he is to you."

"I'm sure he'll come around."

Sam raised her eyebrows at the girl. Star rolled her pale blue eyes, causing them to land on the clock beside Sam's bed.

"You never know with boys, Sam- oh, wow, it's almost midnight." Star stood up, making the bed shudder and sinking Sam's body deeper into the mattress. "My parents are probably looking for me."

"Probably." Sam said. She pushed her way out of the smothering covers. "Uh, you wanna borrow a different dress? That one's kinda.." she pursed her lips. "ruined."

Star looked down, noticing the blotchy ink stains for the first time. Her cheeks turned as red as the dress' original color.

"Um.." she said, biting her lip. Sam pointed to the closet, and tendrils of pain shot up from her extended finger. She winced, realizing that she had used her broken finger. Before she could disguise her grimace, Star had already noticed the bandages wrapping Sam's hand.

"What happened?" Star inquired with raised eyebrows.

"I smashed it in a locker." Sam laughed and a slight blush colored her cheeks. What an embarrassing way to break a bone. "Locker-1, Sam-0." She brushed off Star's concerned eyes with a smile. She pointed to the closet a second time, with a finger that wasn't broken.

"Thanks." Star said quickly before darting into the enormous closet. A few minutes later, she emerged wearing a dress that matched her old one almost perfectly.

"You can keep it," Sam told her, taking the soiled dress. "I don't wear it anyway." She smirked. "Too cheery for me."

For the first time in the long years that they had known each other, Star smiled at her, a real smile. Sam was used to the fake, plastic smirks that popular girls so often wore, but Star's smile was more genuine that she had ever seen on the girl.

"Thanks, Sam." she said, reaching for the door. She pulled it open, but hesitated. "For everything." Sam nodded, returning the honest smile. Star disappeared and the door shut behind her.

Sam trotted to the trash can and tossed in the ruined dress. Before the lid slammed shut, another piece of clothing caught her eye. She frowned, pulling the black shirt from the bottom of the basket.

 _"What's this doing here?"_ she mused. _"I just wore this the other day."_

She unfolded the dark cloth, smoothing out the wrinkles. Her eyes were drawn to one spot in particular, where a dried slime coated the shoulder. Sam touched it and rubbed the green splotch under her fingers.

A small gasp escaped her mouth as she dropped the shirt back into the trash can, her memory rushing back to her.

 _A slimy weight fell upon her shoulder, and the arctic shiver it sent down her spine claimed it as another amphibian carcass. Sam threw the cadaver from her and ran, tripping over her own legs as she sprinted for the door. Faintly, she heard the sound of more bodies slapping against the marble floors..._

"But.." Sam whispered aloud. "That was just a dream."

Even as she said it, the evidence stared back at her with invisible eyes. She set a pile of books on top of the trash lid, as if the shirt would crawl out on its own. She shook her head, eyes locked on the trashcan as she backed away. Her fingers ached, and she felt terribly cold.

Sam sighed wearily, already paining over the dreams of frogs and ghosts that were sure to haunt her that night.

 **A/N: Star is a little bit more down to earth in this story, just because I think traumatic events tend to do that to people. After something horrible happens to somebody, they can become a completely different person. It's sad, but sometimes bad things need to happen for people to mature. How do you guys feel about Star? Think she's really changed? Any guesses on what happened to Danny and his parents? I'd love to hear back from you all, and a special thank you to those of you who have been commenting! Reading your comments and PMs really brighten my day. You're the best.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, so this is the chapter where things get kinda gruesome. Like I said earlier, it's a lot darker than the cartoon. Just a forewarning, because I know it's not everybody's cup of tea. Unless you like blood mixed into your tea. To each their own, I guess.**

Sam ran a hand through her tussled raven hair.

" _I'm gonna be_ so _late."_ she groaned while rapidly tossing books into her spider backpack. With a careless jerk of her arm, Sam slammed the locker door shut. The locker made a resounding crash on impact, and Sam could help but be reminded of the way it had broken her fingers only a few days earlier. She shuddered, self-consciously rubbing the bandaged hand.

Her footsteps echoed down the empty hall as she made her way to class. At first, she set off in a run, then slowed to a brisk walking pace, then gave up all together and walked leisurely to the door. Honestly, she was already half an hour late, so she might as well be a little bit more late.

She checked the clock once more as she stopped in front of the classroom door. Sam sighed through her nose.

 _"At least I'll hear the end of the lesson."_ she thought. As her fingers, the ones that weren't broken, of course, wrapped around the doorhandle, the school bell burst into a ring. She jumped.

"What?" She frowned. "First period doesn't let out for another-" The door Sam was leaning onto suddenly swung open, dragging Sam on its path. Before she could recover from the jolt, she was bulldozed by a bustling crowd of anxious students, who didn't care who they trampled. She scrambled to her feet and leaned against the lockers while the rest of the stream poured out. Underneath her deep scowl, Sam searched the faces for large glasses, dark skin, and a bright red beret. It wasn't hard to spot him, considering he was the only one who wore clothes that matched a streetlight.

"Tucker!" Sam yelled to him, grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him from the crowd.

"Sam?" He said, wrenching his arm from her grasp. "Where were you?"

"I overslept." She answered dully. He snorted a laugh."Stop laughing. And why is class getting out so early? We still have fifteen minutes."

"Mr. Masters called for a meeting in the gym. Right about.." he glanced at the time on his brand new PDA XL300. "now."

"Why?"

Tucker shrugged. "He didn't say. We should go or we'll both be late. Again." This time, Tucker was the one to grab Sam's arm and pull her along.

Sam muttered under her breath, "Anything is better than pre-calculus."

"Truth be told." Tucker agreed. The two mixed into the crowd, despite Sam's hatred of unorganized mobs of brainless teenagers, and pushed, or were pushed, their way into the gym. Students lined the bleachers, talking amongst themselves and anxiously peering at the podium that stood in the center of the gym. Behind it stood Mr. Masters himself, standing even taller and prouder than the oak podium that rested under his clasped hands.

Sam kept a wary eye on the headmaster while she nimbly ascended the steps of the bleachers. Her eyes quickly grazed over the top row of the bleachers, which remained cold and desolate. She, like the other students, strayed away from the highest row. Even if she hadn't believed Star's ghost story, the seats still proved a grim reminder of a horrible accident. Sam and Tucker stole a seat in the fourth row just before Mr. Masters began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, students and teachers of Casper High," Mr. Masters' voice echoed around the gym, thanks to the microphone he held in one hand. "I'm sure you're all wondering why we are gathered here today," He scanned the crowd of deadpan, bored faces. "Don't get too excited now."He joked. A few laughs rose from the assembled body.

He waited for them to silence, smiling at the teenagers. His immaculate black suit and regal posture added to the picture, making him look more like a king among soldiers than a principal among students.

"You have all undergone training, not only of the academic standards, but also of the techniques of survival. We are all aware of the dangers of living in Amity Park, and therefor must be prepared for all the possibility in facing spectral beings."

Seeing the confusion written on the students' faces, he quickly clarified. "Ghosts."

A collective murmur of understanding came from the students.

"So, dear students," Mr, Masters continued. "It is that time of year again, when you youths of potential have the opportunity to compete for a place in this year's elite team." His audience began to shift in their seats, muttering excitedly to each other.

"And as your Headmaster," he went on, cutting through the chatter of the students. "I am truly excited to announce that the competition will be held in only a month from now. Let me remind you that the three winners will not only receive an elite mission under the supervision of a professional, but also an automatic 100 on your grade, exemption from class, and a one thousand dollar cash prize."

Cheers erupted from the mouths of nearly every student, and Mr. Masters grinned at their eager faces.

"Good luck, and may the best student win." He finished, leaving the gym full of cheers and shouts, threats and promises.

Tucker was just one of the voices excitedly shouting to their friends.

"A thousand dollars, Sam! He's raising the stakes."

"I heard." she answered casually.

"And you get to drop out of Paranormal Defense Class with a perfect score."

"I heard that too." Sam replied in the same tone.

"So?" Tucker urged. His eyes peered at her over the rim of his glasses, silently imploring her for the girl's opinion.

"So what? We haven't tried out in the last two years, why now?" she asked.

"I dunno, maybe because there's a _thousand freaking dollars_ involved."

"I'm already rich, remember?" Sam shot back with a shrug. "And that class is easy anyway. I don't need a free ride out."

"So you're going to blow it off again this year?" Tucker asked. Before Sam could reply, a new voice cut in.

"She's right, Tucker. There's really no point in Sam entering."

Sam snapped her head around to face the speaker. Brilliant green, confident eyes clashed against squinted lavender ones.

"Sorry, Valerie," Sam spat, "but I don't remember asking for your opinion." Valerie's rich curls bounced as she shrugged.

"Just saying, it would be less embarrassing if you didn't try. Don't put yourself through all that work just to lose."

A red haze fell over Sam's eyes. Her teeth pressed painfully hard against each other as she glared at Valerie's confident smirk.

"And what makes you think I can't win?" She asked, dangerously quiet. "You think you're the only one who can hold a gun?"

Valerie scoffed. "I can assemble, aim, and shoot a gun before you could even stand up."

"You think so?" Sam shot back, rising from the bleachers to stare her opponent eye to eye.

"You should be used to being beaten by now. We've had plenty of defense classes to know that."

Sam bared her teeth, letting a low growl slide past her thinned lips as her only response. As much as she would _love_ to knock Valerie from her self-imposed pedestal, to humiliate the girl and prove her wrong, Sam couldn't find the words to do so. Valerie had always been the first to piece the gun together, the best shot, the most impressive fighter. And Sam...Sam was always second.

"I could win this stupid competition if I really wanted to." Sam claimed, forcing her lips to curve into a smirk, rather than the thin grimace that they currently etched on her porcelain skin. Her eyes remained in violet slits, dark eyebrows low over her lashes. Valerie's confidence never faltered. With a smirk still in place, she had the audacity to _laugh_ at Sam's determination, only furthering the goth girl's frustration.

"Just try it, Number 2." Valerie taunted her with one last grin before disappearing behind the bleachers. Sam remained locked in place, staring at the place where Valerie once stood.

"If you keep hissing like that, people are going to start believing the rumors about you being a witch." Tucker warned, shooting glares at the mildly disturbed teenagers that watched Sam's mental breakdown.

 _"I'm_ the witch?" Sam shouted, then laughed abrasively. "Have they even _seen_ Valerie?" Sam threw her hands into the air. "Or Miss Perfect Paulina? And they think I'm a witch?"

"Valerie and Paulina don't always wear black and growl at people who come to close." Tucker pointed out. Sam turned to him with the gaze of Medusa, and he quickly looked away, taking a few steps back. Of course _he_ didn't believe the rumors about his best friend being a witch, but there were days when he almost expected snakes to sprout from her hair, and her teeth sharpen into pearly fangs.

"Tucker?" Sam asked, her voice low and coated in venom. He shied from her eyes, not wanting to turn into a stone statue. "Where do I sign up?"

"For what?"

"THE COMPETITION." Sam bellowed. Tucker's eyes darted to her face, his previous fears forgotten. She couldn't be serious? Her lavender eyes swirled with determination and outrage, and her jaw feathered as her teeth clamped together. It was at that moment that Tucker realized that his friend was completely serious, and, even worse, he would be expected to join her in her reckless rampage. Having suggested the idea in the first place, there was no way that Sam would let him back out. And unless he wanted to be the next birdbath statue in her yard, he had better cast his lot in with the other competitors.

"There's probably a roster on the door." Tucker said lamely, sighing as Sam pulled him from his spot on the bleachers.

"We're going to sign our names on that stupid paper," Sam fumed, "and we are going to enter that competition, and we are going to win. AND THEN we are going to rub Valerie's snobby little face in it." She explained, dragging Tucker through the crowd and to the gym doors where a single sheet of paper was taped from the top, leaving the rest of the sheet to flutter in the breeze (or air conditioner, in this case).

Sam studied the white paper, marred only by the names scribbled in black ink. She briefly glanced over the page as she took a pen in hand. Eleven in all, but only one stood out to her. The last signature, elegantly written in midnight ink, assaulted her eyes like each letter was a beautifully written dagger. _**Valerie Gray**_

Seconds later, Sam's name filled the line beneath Valerie's. Sam grinned at the smooth lines of her name as she handed the pen off to Tucker.

 _"Just wait, Valerie Gray,"_ Sam thought. _"We'll see who's second best."_

Sam's fingers tightened around the strap of her backpack, idly fiddling with the coarse fabric. Around her, the sharp snap of lockers being slammed shut fought against the dull murmur of conversation. Some students pushed past her, wanting to make it to their classes before the five minute passing period was up. Sam paid them no attention. At this point, she had long ago accepted the rude behavior of high school students. The shoves, shouts, and cries didn't even faze her. Sam's mind was too busy scheming to be bothered by such unpleasant things; with the competition coming up, she had so much to do, so much training, studying, learning.

 _"But right now,"_ Sam reminded herself, _"you have English class."_

The training could wait, but Lancer's class couldn't. Though the school had been transformed from a normal public school to a Ghost hunting academy early in her freshman year, Mr. Lancer had always been a firm believer that education in literature should never be forgotten. The students of Casper High could not only shoot an ectoplasmic entity from the sky, but they could also quote lines of the Odyssey as well. The school prided itself on producing well-rounded students.

Sam wiggled free from the stream of people and moved towards her locker, where even more students lingered. She shooed them away with fluttering hand motions and a grumble. They took their bags and left, some shooting the gothic girl dark looks. No one wanted to be too close to a witch.

Sam ignored their stares, as she always did, and reached for the handhold of her locker. The door popped open just a crack, but before Sam could finish the job, the sound of her own name caught her attention. The voice was deep, smooth...uh oh.

She contemplated just walking away, pretending that his voice had never reached her ears, but before she could proceed with her plan, he was already next to her, standing painfully close.

 _"What does he want now?"_ Sam screamed in her mind. She couldn't shriek out loud, no matter how much she wanted to, but she could slam her locker quite viciously. As Danny's voice came back, still talking to her, she interrupted him with the clash of her locker door smashing against its frame. This time, she was careful not to get her fingers caught.

"Sam, wait!" He pleaded as she turned away, not bothering to even acknowledge him. He caught her elbow and pulled her back, twisting her to face him at the same time. Sam blinked and found bright blue eyes staring back at her. Quite beautiful eyes, not that she would never admit that out loud.

"What?" she asked exasperatedly. If she was going to be forced into a conversation, she would at least make her displeasure clear. To her great chagrin, Danny gave no sign of recognition at the disdain in her voice.

"I wanted to talk to you about the competition." He answered. He sounded almost excited. Sam frowned, trying her best to glare at him.

"What about it?" she asked coolly.

"I saw that your name was on the paper," he said, "and Tucker's too. I was wondering if you guys needed some help in, uh, training, or something." He smiled weakly, unsure, and watched her with worried eyes. Did he think she was going to bite him or something? Well, she might.

Sam frowned, sure that she had misunderstood him, but the sincere glow in his sapphire eyes made her stumble. Figuratively, that is. She scowled, and suddenly remembered that his hand was still holding her arm. Sam jerked her arm away from his grasp and stepped back. She glared at him fiercely, imagining her eyes to be shards of the coldest ice in the world.

"After ignoring me for two years, completely _abandoning_ us when we begged for you to just look at us, you have the audacity to ask us to be _training buddies_?" Sam cried, her voice slowly rising in hysteria. The students around them watched the two with shocked silence. The bell rang for the one minute warning, carrying off some of the audience with it.

He responded only by staring. Not even staring at her, but at his own shoes. Dark bangs fell into his eyes, covering the top half of his face. All Sam could see were lowered eyebrows and a pained grimace on his lips. She almost sighed in relief when his eyes left her. Sam didn't know how much more she could take of the hopeful sparkle that glimmered back at her. But she was sure that it was gone now, even if she could see his eyes, she could almost feel the light leave them.

Sam stared him down, silently daring the boy to look up at her, to say something, but he never responded. She waited until the final bell had rung, declaring her late to English class. Again. But that thought didn't hold any of the importance it had before. She didn't care. Not if she was late, and she _certainly_ didn't care if Danny's feelings were hurt. What about her feelings? Surely, he didn't care either.

"Sam," Danny said softly, breaking the intense glare that she had set on him. "I'm sorry. I know you and Tucker only wanted to help me, but...but it's better if you don't get involved." He lost interest in his shoes, and gentle ocean eyes drifted back up to Sam's.

That was not what she had expected. Sam backtracked so fast that her head spun. "I never wanted to hurt you, but I did what I had to, Sam. After the accident, things changed. It was more than just my parents," he told her, his voice thick and heavy. Just listening to the agonized beg in his tone, Sam felt like she was drowning. "It was me. I'm different than I used to be. Everything...nothing is like it used to be."

Sam shook her head to clear the fog from her eyes. She couldn't think, couldn't even breathe when he was staring at her like that. She hated him, so why did his pain make her hurt so much? Why did his eyes, his stupid, beautiful eyes, make her feel like _she_ was the bad guy? Like she was the one who shut everyone out, who had abandoned him.

"Why are you saying this?" Sam croaked. She had intended her voice to be strong and demanding, but it came out in a weak tremble. Hardly a whisper. Sam cursed herself and her pathetic voice. Just before, he had been cowering under her wrath, as he deserved to be, but now she was the one to stare at her shoes. Her toes wiggled against the black leather of her boot.

 _"He deserves it."_ Sam reminded herself. _"He brought this on himself."_

Funny, it was so easy to say when she didn't have to look at him. The second their eyes met, all that hatred, burning anger she clung to just disappeared like it had never existed at all. Then, all she had to hold on to was guilt. Maybe that's why she couldn't stand being close to him.

"I want to help you." He pleaded. Sam knew his eyes were on her again, but she refused to meet them. She couldn't give him that opportunity to manipulate her again. Cunning devil..

"And what makes you think I need help?" Sam questioned sharply, the harsh edge having returned to her voice. "I can hold my own. It's not life or death, Danny. It's just a competition, not the freaking Hunger Games." She said his name with as much bite as she could muster, but it still sounded far too weak for her ears.

"I wasn't talking about the competition." Danny shot back. Sam glanced at him curiously, but quickly looked away.

 _"No eye contact for longer than five seconds,"_ Sam told herself. That way, he couldn't use any of his manipulating magic tricks.

"I know there's something else going on." Danny stated, stepping closer to her. "Something that you're not telling me."

" _What is he talking about?"_ Sam felt waves of panic ripple through her, though she didn't know why. Her broken fingers ached. The crushed bones felt like they were pushing against her skin, screaming to be let out. The pain only heightened under the intensity of his blue eyes.

"I've gotta get to class." She said breathlessly, avoiding his gaze as much as she could. She threw her locker open to create a division between them. Sam hoped to find refuge in the cover of her locker, but the sight it held shook her to the very core. Her eyelids disappeared behind wide amethyst irises. Her blood ran cold.

Sam tried to force herself to blink, but she couldn't tear her sight away from the horror in front of her. After several failed attempts, she squeezed her eyes shut so hard that it sent shock waves into her cheeks. Against her desperate prayers, the sight still remained when her eyes reopened.

Her books were covered in the color of deep red wine. Little bits of green flesh were wedged between the pages, turning the pristine white of the textbook into crimson stains. If the sickeningly dark color wasn't enough to give it away, the sharp, metallic scent dragged Sam into a horrible recognizance. She couldn't tear her eyes from the scene. Her blood chilled even more as her fearful eyes followed a fresh trail of blood to the origin of the substance.

The small body was mutilated, almost to the point of being unrecognizable. Through the blood, she could see shards of green, bumpy skin. Frog skin. Sprawled on its back, the frog's stomach had been cut open and the skin peeled back in a carefully precise laceration. The frog's dull eyes stared blankly at the back of her locker. Sam followed the empty gaze and felt her stomach clench to the point of nausea.

One word was hastily scrawled in the frog's crimson blood. Light reflected from the still wet surface, and Sam watched as a drip fell from the word, starting its own path down the locker like a rain drop running down a window. Only when the drop had settled at the base of her locker, had Sam processed the meaning of the word it fell from. _**Bully.**_

It was the kind of word that sounded ridiculous after being repeated too many times. A word that seemed much too light for its actual meaning. Previously, Sam had associated the word with people like Dash and Paulina, but now it flashed images of Star's tear-stained face to mind.

Sam whimpered, her hands shaking violently as she stepped back. Faintly, she heard Danny calling her name, asking her questions, but his voice sounded far away, somewhere at the end of a cold tunnel. Sam cupped her hands over her mouth, feeling sick to her stomach.

Danny grabbed her shoulder and shook her gently. When she still didn't meet his eyes, he followed her gaze. His hands fell away and Sam took it as an opportunity to run. Her feet thundered against the empty halls, the footsteps bouncing off the walls and mixing with the sound of her ragged breath. Danny's voice still called after her, but she didn't wait for him to catch up.

 **A/N: I seem to end a lot of chapters with Sam dramatically running out of the building. Eh, I'm a dramatic person. I would probably be running if I was in her shoes. Even though I hate running. It weirds me out how some people actually like running. Like, why? Anyway, thanks for reading, commenting, following, whatever it is that you do. Thank you all, and I'll see you next week.**


	6. Chapter 6

The janitor handed Sam her books with a sympathetic smile. Well, not really _her_ books. Replacement books.

"Here you go, Miss Manson." The janitor placed the Chemistry textbook in Sam's outstretched arms. "You can use these while your locker is being cleaned out. I'm really sorry about that." the old janitor shook his head. Can't imagine why anyone would want to do that."

Sam forced a grim smile. The janitor returned it with a nonchalant shrug while he adjusted his baseball cap.

"Teenagers these days."

"Yeah." Sam responded dryly. "Teenagers."

Gracing her with one last despondent grin, he sauntered off, leaving Sam with an armful of schoolbooks and nowhere to put them. She sighed, shuffling her feet as she trotted down the school hallway, hoping that Tucker might have a little extra space in his locker. She was less than thrilled that her books, even replacement ones, would have to share the same space with all the summer sausages Tucker had stored in there, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Need a hand, pretty lady?" an exaggeratedly deep voice rang in Sam's ears. Dark, sea-foam eyes danced behind black-rimmed glasses and wiggling eyebrows. Sam rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the small smile from tugging at her lips.

"Thanks, Tuck." She accepted, handing over a few books from the textbook tower.

"That was more of a joke than an actual offer." the boy grumbled, but took the books regardless. "Where are you gonna put all these?"

"Your locker."

Tucker scoffed.

"MY locker? Have you heard of the word, 'please' or is that too advanced for your vocabulary?"

"Says the boy who's barely passing English class." Sam shot back. Tucker mumbled under his breath, but didn't object. Not out loud, at least.

The two stopped in front of Tucker's locker and Sam piled her books in. She grimaced at the conspicuous cooler in the back of his locker that smelled an awful lot like summer sausage. Sam wrinkled her nose at the smell, but decided not to comment at risk of being kicked out. She wedged the last book in between countless gadgets with names that Sam would never be able to pronounce. Technology really wasn't her strong suite.

"So what happened to your old locker?" Sam winced as Tucker posed the question. "I went over there to find you, but there was a bunch of janitors digging in it." Sam kept her back to him so that he couldn't read her face.

"I'll tell you later." Sam replied simply. She couldn't stand an "I told you so" right then. "It's kind of a long story." She added, knowing that her previous statement would not be enough for the boy.

"Shouldn't they have given you a temporary locker?" He pushed. Sam arranged her books as an excuse to avoid his eyes.

"They're working on it."

The first period bell rung, and Tucker dismissed himself with a wave and a pat on Sam's shoulder. She grinned at his retreating figure and closed his locker, carefully avoiding her fingers. A little slip of paper burned through her pants pocket, teasing her to no end. Sam wondered why she hadn't thrown it away yet.

She pulled out the slip, a note from the office, and spared it only a quick glance before crumbling the sheet and tossing it in the trash. She laughed at the pure irony of the note.

" _Samantha Manson-Temporary locker No. 724."_

Just what she needed. Sam scoffed and shook her head, dark locks bouncing with each step. That number left a sour taste in her mouth, not to mention a painful ache in her fingers. Irony sure loved tormenting her. _"Just wait until Star-"_

Sam stopped mid-thought, with one foot still suspended in the air, waiting to be brought down for the next step. Two voices pricked at her ears-both familiar, one pleasant, and one not so pleasant.

"I'm really worried about her, Danny. I told her to talk to you, but I don't know if she will. You'll do something, won't you?" Sam frowned at the sound of Star's voice, thick with concern. After finding the brutal crime scene in her locker, Sam had called Star in a panic. Of course, Star made her promise to go to Danny, or she would do it herself. Star could have at least given her a chance. She would have talked to Danny...eventually..

Sam leaned against a locker and listened to the two talk just around the corner.

"I had a feeling that something was going on with her. Jazz told me about the broken fingers. A locker can't do that much damage all by itself."

"It was the ghost! Danny," Star's voice held a note of desperation that Sam remembered from a few nights ago, when she was begging Sam to believe her, to forgive her. "I deserved what happened to me-" She cut off Danny's objection and continued. "but Sam doesn't deserve this. She's a lot nicer than she thinks she is. Please, just..please don't let her get hurt."

Sam felt tears prick at her eyes when Star's voice cracked, but she quickly blinked them away.

"I'm trying, but she won't talk to me. She hates me, Star." His voice dropped into a hoarse whisper, and Sam had to lean even farther to hear him. Her nose was mere centimeters from the edge of the corner.

"..not that I blame her or anything. I knew she would. I just did what I had to do." Sam felt her stomach flutter with guilt. Why did _she_ feel guilty? He just admitted it was his fault, and yet...

Danny's voice returned to normal volume, but Sam wasn't listening.

 _"He did what he had to do? What is that supposed to mean?"_ Sam scowled at the thought, but put it in the back of her mind. She forced herself to listen to Star.

"She thinks she hates you, but she doesn't really."

 _"No."_ Sam thought furiously. _"I do hate him. I really hate him."_

"I'll talk to her. Don't worry, Danny, she'll come around eventually. I just hope it won't be too late." Star assured him.

"I'll find out what I can about the ghost." Danny told her. "In the meantime, take care of Sam for me," Sam chewed her lip. "...and yourself too. It mights still have a grudge."

"I know. I wasn't going to come back, but when Sam called me last night..I had to make sure she was okay." Sam blinked, wondering if she had heard right. Star came back for _her_? A warm feeling spread through Sam's chest- like the feeling of taking a big gulp of hot coffee. Man, she could use some coffee right about now.

"And if she isn't going to get help, then I'll do it for her."

Sam jolted into the air as a ring burst from the warning bell above her head. Clapping her palms over her aching ears, Sam glared at the bell defiantly. Five minutes until class.

" _Stupid bell_ ," Sam sneered at the bright red ringer. " _Stupid school_. _Stupid-"_

She froze as two figures crept into her peripheral vision, slowly swinging around the corner. Before she could be spotted as the eavesdropper she was, Sam swung open the nearest locker and buried her head far into it, as if she was an ordinary student looking for a book that was stuck far behind the others. She bit back her disgust as she scuffled around the locker. Paulina's face beamed down at her from its pedestal position, a picture taped to the back of the locker and surrounded by unlit candles. Sam gagged. A shrine to Paulina? She dared to say it was even more revolting than the murder scene in her own locker.

Despite its distasteful content, the locker served its purpose, having shielded Sam from Star and Danny as they waltzed past, obliviously chatting away. Sam watched them from the corner of her eye, still under the dissemble of a fumbling student, who definitely was _not_ spying on her friends. Well, one friend, and one..ex-friend.

Sam pulled her head from the Paulina shrine, only to plunge back in when Star turned abruptly to face her. The girl waved Danny goodbye and even gave him a little hug, telling him that her class was in the other direction. Sam leaned even farther into the locker, to the point where her nose was almost touching the picture of Paulina (gross) and only the top of her toes touched the floor. In hindsight, maybe she overdid it just a bit.

"Sam?"

"No, no Sam here." Sam did her best attempt at a low, masculine voice. She grimaced at the miserable fail. Not even her Grandma would fall for that, and she needed hearing aids.

"Sam, I know that's you." Sam bit her lip at Star's snicker. "No one else wears black combat boots and purple leggings."

Sam sighed in defeat, slumping so fast that her forehead came in sharp contact with the back of the locker. "What're you doing? I kinda doubt that's your replacement locker." Star questioned, gently prodding Sam's back.

"I was just, eh, investigating the lockers for..signs of..paranormal activity." She nodded at her own excuse. "To crack the case." She slid from the locker and stood fully on her feet, laughing nervously at Star's doubtfully raised eyebrow. She went to rub her neck, but quickly pulled her hand away, thinking that she had already spent too much time with Danny.

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"What? No! On who?" Sam scrunched her face into the most confused expression she could form.

"You weren't eavesdropping on me and Danny?"

"Of course not."

"Then what were you doing?" Star folded her arms over her chest. Sam's mouth opened and closed a few times, hoping to let out some kind of reasonable response, but no luck. Sam's face fell to a guilty pout.

"Eavesdropping." She stared at the ground, waiting for a scolding that never came. Not only was she caught in the act, but now she smelled like Paulina's perfume.

"See, that wasn't too unbearable, was it?" Star playfully nudged Sam's shoulder.

"You don't have to worry about me," Sam's eyes rose to meet hers. "I can take care of myself. You should go home if you don't feel comfortable here. I have Tucker, and..." Sam racked her brain for another name to add to the list, but drew up empty.

"And Danny."

"And Dan-" Sam stopped, glaring at Star for even suggesting the name, and biting her tongue for speaking it.

"He said he would help, Sam!" Star cried. Her arms unfolded and formed praying hands for the patience she needed. "Just give him a chance! Whatever he did, it's not worth losing your life over. Just let him help."

Sam felt her throat clam up.

"He doesn't care!" She choked out, ignoring the horrible squeak that caught in the words.

"He does care! He wants to help you. Didn't you hear that while you were _eavesdropping_?" Sam decided not to comment on that and dig herself into an even bigger grave. Star dropped her books to the ground and grabbed Sam by the shoulders, giving her a shake. "If you would just listen to him for a _second_ , you would see that."

Sam shrugged her hands off and looked away, unable to meet Star's penetrating gaze. She had tried. For two years she had tried so hard, and all she had gotten was the cold shoulder. She couldn't go through that again.

"Why now?" Sam shook her head, not bothering to brush away the raven strands that fell in front of her face. " _Now_ he wants to talk to me, to help me, after I begged for his attention and all he did was push me away." She scoffed and tucked her arms over her chest, trying to ignore the stinging in her eyes. "Once I stop caring, he all the sudden wants to talk to me again. I'd just gotten over it all, and now he drags me back into his insanity. How is that fair?"

"He's the only one who can help you now, so you'll have to get over it." Star picked up the strap of her bag and slung it over her slim shoulders. Sam had never seen Star carry her own backpack; she always had someone less popular to lug it for her, but now she wilted under the weight of it herself. "Once this ghost thing blows over, you can go back to hating him and forget this all happened, okay?"

Sam shifted under Star's expectant eyes and raised brow.

 _"Maybe Star is right. Just get rid of the ghost and things go back to normal. No ghost, no frogs, no Danny..."_

"Okay." she answered softly. She could do this..

"Now pretend you're helping me walk so that we get an excuse to be late for class." Star slung the arm that wasn't holding up the backpack over Sam's shoulders.

"And stop muttering. It's going to be okay. Danny isn't that bad."

"I wasn't muttering, but okay."

"Whispering then."

"I wasn't muttering or whispering anything."

Sam watched the color drain from her friend's face as she leaned more weight on Sam's shoulder. Her eyes darted to the lockers.

"Star?"

"My leg just started hurting," Star sighed, her eyelids drooping wearily. "Guess I actually do need a crutch." Star cast her a tired smile, weak but hopeful. Sam grinned back. She wasn't completely alone. She had Tucker and Star, and _maybe_ Danny, if he kept his word. She couldn't help but feel a little hopeful.

* * *

Sam hugged her arms together underneath the wool fabric of her sweater, but the cold shivers persisted. She wondered why, out of all the seats in the class, _she_ was placed right under the air vent.

"Mrs. Layne," Sam piped as her hand shot into the air. She ignored the teacher's disapproving glare at her interjection. "Can you turn the air off, please? It's freezing in here."

"The air isn't on, sweetie." Mrs. Layne lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose and looked over them with a slight frown. Much to Sam's embarrassment, she realized that half the class was shooting her the same curious look, snickering at the bulge that her arms made in her jacket. Sam glared back at the students until they looked away.

Sam glared at the supposedly unused air vent above her. She definitely felt a cold breeze rush across her neck, almost like an icy breath. She couldn't be the only one that felt it. Her eyes scanned over the classroom, coming across tired, bored faces until resting on Star. Sam felt her blood run even colder at the sight of her.

Star trembled violently enough to make her desk shake. Her face, usually a perfect blend between a soft gold and rosy cheeks was drained into a pasty white. Her eyes nearly glowed against the pale skin as they darted from side to side.

"Star?" Sam whispered over to her. Though they were straight across from each other, no more than two feet away, Star didn't seem to hear. "Star?" She tried again, loud enough that the person in front of Star turned back to look.

Star's trembling lips parted, and a feeble plea choked out.

"No," She croaked quietly. "No, no, no.." Her head began to shake from side to side, slowly at first, but faster and faster until Sam grew dizzy just watching. Star's chair screeched against the floor as she shot up. Her knee hit the desk and sent the papers flying.

"Star?" Mrs. Layne called out to the girl, but Star only stumbled back, bumping into desks and scattering papers all over the floor. Sam called her name again, nearly shouting this time, and shot up to grab Star by the shoulders. She shook from Sam's hold, sobbing and slapping her hands away.

"It's not true!" Star screamed. "Leave me alone!"

"Star, it's me!" Sam pleaded. "It's Sam. Listen to me, Star."

"Get away!" Star demanded in a scratchy, ragged voice. Her hands shot out and shoved against Sam's stomach. Sam felt a blast of cold tear through her, and her breath ripped from her lungs as Sam found herself tumbling over her own desk. She laid with her face pressed against the cold floor, desperately gasping for a breath of air. The cold spread through her-her stomach had turned to a block of ice that felt to be slowly melting, seeping into her veins. She couldn't move, or think, she couldn't even shiver.

A set of hands wrapped around her arms and lifted her up. The hands burned against her like a heated brand, and for a second, Sam swore she heard his skin sizzle.

"You okay, Sam?" A boy's voice asked her. She guessed he was the owner of the hands that had hauled her up. Her guess was proven correct when the hands retracted, and the same voice spoke again. "Damn, you're colder than an ice cube. You sick or something?"

"I'm fine." She waved her hand dismissively, but she still had to brace her hands against her knees to catch her breath. Slowly, she felt her warmth returning and she spoke just as the last shred of ice melted away.

"Where's Star?" she stammered.

"Why don't you sit down?" the boy offered. Sam vaguely recognized him as the boy who sat in front of Star, the second to notice Star's pale state, but Sam couldn't recall his name at the moment.

As much as Sam wanted to decline, her heart seemed to be pumping faster than usual, her blood pulsing wildly against her veins, making her whole body throb like a hundred heartbeats. She fell into the chair.

"Someone has to find her." Sam ordered, panting slightly. "She could be hurt-"

"Mrs. Layne already went after her." she was informed by another student, just one of many that crowded around her.

 _"Star.."_ Sam thought worriedly. She was in trouble, Sam was sure of it. She swore that Star's teal eyes had glowed slate gray, if only for a second.

Sam jumped to her feet, ignoring the nauseating rush of blood that pounded against her head.

"Hey, what are you-"

"I'm feeling better, thank you." Sam quickly called over her shoulder as she sprinted to the door. She was still looking over her shoulder when she ran straight into Mrs. Layne, who caught Sam before she could slip past.

"Samantha, are you alright? You took quite the fall." She asked. Sam decided to overlook the "Samantha" comment.

"Star?" she questioned impatiently. Mrs. Layne shook her head.

"I lost her in the hall. It's like she just disappeared."

Sam breathed out an exasperated sigh and pushed past the teacher, racing down the halls to do something she never thought she would have the guts (or the foolishness) to do. But Star had been there for her, and Sam needed to return the favor, even if it cost Sam her pride. She had to find Danny.

 **A/N: I'm going to be hella busy this weekend, so I wanted to update while I still had the chance. Side note: did you guys know that there's a Danny Phantom book..thing? It's called Stage Fright, in case you were wondering. I bought it for a penny on Amazon. The more you know.**


	7. Chapter 7

"I need to speak with Danny Fenton, please." Sam demanded to the woman sitting at the front desk of the headmaster's office. The woman stared back at her in irritation, one hand idly grasping a pen, and the other hand holding the school phone to her ear.

"It's really important."

The receptionist dropped the pen and covered the phone speaker with one hand.

"He's busy right now."

"Is he here?" Sam craned her neck to see past the woman's brunette ponytail, through the doors of the office. "Like, in the office?"

"Can you leave a message?" the woman's head moved to block Sam's view, so that she was forced to look into the narrowed, chocolate eyes of the receptionist. Sam fought the urge to growl at her.

"Is he here or not?" Sam hissed. Her feet tapped the floor on impulse. She didn't have time for this. The secretary glowered at her and dropped the phone back onto the receiver with a loud click. Sam wondered if she just hung up on somebody, or if she was just pretending to be on a call to deter pestering students like herself. It could really go either way.

She punched in a few buttons on the dial and lifted the phone back to her ear. After only a few seconds wait, the other end picked up.

"Mr. Masters, is Danny still with you?" the Secretary talked into the phone. "Oh, hello, Danny. There's a girl here demanding to see you." Her eyes shot Sam an icy glare. "And I doubt she's leaving anytime soon...I don't know, honey, let me ask." The woman held the phone to her shoulder and raised her eyebrows at Sam. "Name?"

Sam hesitated. What if he refused to see her? She would have to push past the receptionist and break in anyway. She thought about lying, but he had been so eager to talk to her the other day, why would today be different? The quick, impatient tap of the receptionist's foot on the floor broke Sam from her thoughts.

"Sam," she said quickly. "Manson."

"Sam Manson." the woman said into the phone. "Danny? Hello?" She checked the phone once before setting it back on the receiver with a shrug. "Guess he doesn't want to see-"

"Sam?" The door swung open, and Danny's smiling face appeared. She instinctively walked towards him, but not before casting a smug smile to the receptionist. He held open the door for her, allowing her to enter into an office decorated with everything Packers related.

"Uh, Vlad's a football fan." Danny explained, seeing Sam's awestruck expression.

"I see." Sam scanned the room for the Headmaster, but he was gone, leaving only her and Danny. Great. "Where is he?" He wasn't at the school nearly as much as a headmaster should be. She hardly ever saw him unless he was making an announcement.

"Not here today." Danny shrugged sheepishly. "He's a busy guy." He rubbed the back of his neck, casually avoiding her eyes. "I don't even know what he's doing half the time."

Sam shrugged it off as he pulled out a chair for her and himself. "But I'm guessing you're not here to talk about Vlad."

"No, not exactly." She sat down and folded her hands to keep herself from wringing them. She decided to cut right to the chase. She didn't have time for small talk, and never liked idle conversation in the first place. "Star's in trouble."

Danny's back went rigid, like marionette strings had pulled his body straight.

"What?" The corner of his lips turned down, jaw tightening in a frown. "I've only been gone a few minutes! Where is she?" the chair wheeled back as he stood.

"She's at home now," Sam assured, "I had to call her five times before she answered, but she's okay. I was gonna go straight to her house, but..." Sam chewed her lip and stared at her boots. She so did _not_ want to do this.

"But?"

"But," Sam steeled herself with a breath, "I kind of... well, I" she bit her stuttering lips. Sam closed her eyes so that she wouldn't have to look at him as she said it. "I need your help."

Sam expected a laugh, or some mocking smile that would drive her mad, but he just sat down quietly and watched her with those bright, expectant eyes.

"Anything."

Her eyes opened wide, but she didn't say anything. Mostly because she didn't know what to say. That was definitely not the response she had been expecting, and all the snarky comebacks she had been preparing quietly faded to the back of her mind.

"I talked to Star this morning, and she told me that you were in trouble." Danny spoke in her silence.

"I think Star's the one we should be worried about."

Danny's eyebrows arched in doubt.

"Says the girl with the broken fingers."

Sam's cheeks colored, and she tucked her bandaged hand behind her. It was almost healed now, but the wrapping was still there in case she did something stupid. Like slamming her hand in a locker, perhaps.

"Star and Jazz told me what they heard, but I want to hear it from you." Danny leaned forward in his chair, his eyes glittering with an intensity that made Sam want to squirm away and disappear. His eyes always made her feel like they were trying to tell her something, but she didn't know what. Like a whisper that was just too quiet to hear. A speech in another language. "I'm really worried about you, Sam." She wanted more than anything to tell him what bullshit that was, to storm out and never talk to him again, but the thought of Star's tear stained face kept her rooted to the chair. And she her legs felt frozen with his eyes watching her like that. Big, blue puppy eyes. She hated those eyes-but she missed them too. More than she could tell him, or even herself.

"I'll tell you later." She mumbled when she remembered how to speak. "I came here to talk about Star." Sam glanced up at him to see him nod, his lips a grim line.

"Okay." he accepted, though his tired voice and quiet sigh sounded anything but okay.

The wheels of his chair squeaked as he scooted back and began shuffling through the desk, his back to Sam.

"I need you to start from the beginning," he said over his shoulder. "And don't leave anything out, because even the smallest thing can be important..." he kept talking, but Sam wasn't listening. She hadn't paid much attention to the sleek, mahogany desk until Danny had brought her attention to it. It wasn't really the desk that caught her attention anyway. No, it was more of what was _on_ the desk that made her stomach clench, her eyes grow blurry with mist.

"I didn't think it was important, but I totally underestimated the insanity of a dead lunch lady." Danny prattled on, like he used to do when he was distracted or nervous. Another habit he had yet to grow out of. "All she did was change the menu a little bit, and-"

"You still have that picture?"

"the ghost-what?"

Danny looked up from the messy drawer in time to see Sam pull the old picture frame from his desk. She stared at it a long time, not noticing Danny's cheeks color a soft pink.

"I have this picture too." Sam said quietly, running her fingers over the metal frame. Her lips twitched into a small smile. It was the same one that she kept in her drawer, that she couldn't bring herself to tear, no matter how many times she tried. She wondered why Danny still had it. "I thought you would have thrown this away by now." Her voice was a whisper.

He was silent for a long time. So long that Sam wondered if he had heard her at all.

"I wouldn't do that." He finally said in a voice as soft as hers. A notepad and pen lay forgotten in his hand. Sam tore her eyes from the picture long enough to raise an eyebrow at him.

"But you said-"

"I remember what I said." He said quietly, still watching her with that silent intensity of his. The whisper she couldn't make out. Her eyes returned to the picture, three smiling faces grinning back at her. She remembered too. She remembered when that boy in the middle, with the glittering blue eyes and lopsided smile had last held the same picture in his hands.

 _"Danny!" Tucker dropped the flowers on the stone steps as he wrapped his arms around the boy at the door. Sam was less than a second behind._

 _"Are you okay?"_

 _"The doctors wouldn't let us visit you in the hospital."_

 _"We've been so worried!" The two kids, barely past fourteen, fired off questions too fast for Danny to answer even if he wanted to._

 _Sam pulled her face from his shoulder, cupping Danny's face in her trembling hands. She turned his head, whimpering at the bruises that lined his neck and jaw._

 _"Do they hurt?" she asked softly. Sam ran her thumb over the purple skin and blinked away tears._

 _"No." his voice was a murmur._

 _"They said you were..."Sam had to bite her lip as a sob built up in her chest. She thought she had cried enough over the past two weeks, that the tears were all gone. But glancing from the bruises on his face to his sullen eyes, she realized that she had been a fool to think that. She had to fight to keep them down._

 _"Danny," Tucker rubbed at his eyes with a fist. "Are you gonna..be..okay?" the boy asked between muffled sobs. Sam refused to look at him, knowing that Tucker's tears would only make her weep again, and she promised herself that she would be strong. She had to be strong for Danny._

 _"I'll be fine."_

 _Yet Sam had never seen his eyes so defeated. Broken, tired, their sparkle ripped away by the same explosion that had taken his parents and his home._

 _Sam wrapped her arms around him again, and she knew he lied when he didn't hug her back._

 _"Are you going to live here now?" Tucker's wet eyes drifted behind Danny to the house that towered beyond the door. More than a house-a mansion. The ceiling stretched so high that Tucker had to squint to see it, even with his glasses._

 _"Mr. Masters said I could live with him." Danny wasn't looking at them as he said it, his eyes as flat and quiet as his voice._

 _"But-"_

 _"Where else can I go?"_

 _"You could live with me," Tucker blinked at his tears and scrubbed them off his cheeks. "Or Sam."_

 _Sam nodded, but Danny wasn't looking anyway. He was staring at his shoes. New shoes, Sam noticed._

 _"I don't think so, Tucker." Danny's voice was barely a whisper. A soft breeze ruffled his hair. "I wouldn't do that to you." Sam never got the chance to ask him what those last words meant._

 _He stepped back, and Sam's arms fell limply to her sides. Danny's eyes stared past his two closest friends, like he was watching something too far for them to see. "My old house," he said quietly. "have you seen it?" His eyes came back into focus when they nodded. They knew what he was asking, but neither of them wanted to answer. Sam looked to Tucker, but his lips were trembling too much to speak._

 _"Danny..." she cleared her throat, trying to wash away the lump that caught in it. "t-there's not much left." She whispered the hoarse, choked words. She begged herself not to cry. Danny only nodded, his eyes taking on the far away look again. It was like he was still looking for his home, but there was nothing but a pile of rubble left to see._

 _"We, um, Sam and I brought you flowers." Tucker scrambled for the bouquet that he had dropped when Danny finally came to the door. His voice had finally stopped shaking, but his dark cheeks still shone from the tears._

 _"That old guy at the door wouldn't let us in. He told us to leave the flowers cause...because you didn't want to see us, but we knew he was lying." Danny looked at Tucker for a moment, his eyes growing wide, like it was the first time he had actually seen him standing there on the doorstep, flowers clasped tightly in his hand. Danny's lips moved, but nothing but silence came out. Then he just looked down at his shoes again and didn't say a word._

 _"Right, Danny?" Sam's chest grew tight when he didn't object. It was getting harder and harder to breathe the longer he stood in silence. She waited for an answer, not knowing that the answer had already been given to her. Words couldn't express what only silence could. Silence was its own language, its own answer, that few people understood._

 _A voice called Danny from the stairs, and Danny looked over his shoulder and nodded a slow nod. Sam saw the bruises move as he clenched his jaw._

 _"I have to go." He was already pushing the door shut before the words could leave his lips._

 _"Then we'll be back tomorrow." Sam promised. His eyes only flicked to hers briefly before resting on his new shoes once again._

 _"Not tomorrow, okay?"_

 _Sam watched his eyes grow shiny, the rims brimming with tears that refused to fall._

 _"Danny, what's wrong?" Sam reached for his hand, but caught only air. It was as if her hand went right through him. She tried again, but Danny pulled his hands away and stepped back. Far back, like the air she breathed was toxic._

 _"Just..." he tucked his hand under his arm. "just go. Please." Danny clamped his mouth shut as his voice cracked on the word._

 _All was still, not even the wind dared to whistle past them until Tucker handed Danny the flowers. He sniveled and wiped his nose on his sleeve as Danny took the flowers, holding the tiny card attached to the emerald ribbon like it was made of fine glass. Not a card, but a picture._

 _"You said you wanted a copy." Tucker tried his best to smile, but his lips collapsed in a quivering mess. Tiny drops rolled down his shining cheeks and splattered on the ground by his feet. "Free of charge."_

 _"We'll come back when you feel better." Sam's smile came out a little less wobbly, but not by much. She took Tucker's hand, forcing herself to turn away as the door slowly slid to a close. But it stopped, leaving just enough room for Danny's face to show through when he spoke. Just one word._

 _"Don't."_

 _Sam felt as if her whole world froze with that one word. Her feet made a slow pivot to face him, but he wasn't facing her._

 _"W-what?" She stuttered, her clasped hands dropping limply to her sides._

 _"Don't come back." Danny's eyes finally found hers, and held them for the first time that day. They shone with fresh tears, with grief and pity and anger, but they never wavered. "Please."_

 _That word again. The same word used to ask to pass the salt, or to borrow a piece of paper. But what he was asking was nothing like that. The word felt wrong, horribly wrong. It was too light, too kind and innocent to ask what he was asking. But there he was, the word still on his lips as Sam's tears finally poured over, warm on her cold cheeks._

 _"But, Danny-"_

 _The door shut in her face, and that's the way it stayed, no matter how many times they came back, no matter how many bouquets of flowers they left on the doorstep. The flowers rotted and the weeks faded past, but the door never opened._

* * *

All this time, the picture had been in the very same school she went to everyday. He had kept it, just like she had kept hers. He hadn't forgotten, even after two years of silence. The picture suddenly grew so heavy that her hands shook, and her lungs ached for air. Then her eyes were fogging over with tears, her lips moving without her permission.

"I missed you." The words tumbled from her mouth before Sam could stop them. She realized they were true only after she said them, in that silence when she refused to look at him, and all he did was look at her. She never hated him. She hated the silence, the rejection, the loss of the one who had always been at her side. Hating him was easier than missing him, but she didn't want to suffer with either one any longer. "I've missed you so much, Danny." No amount of acting, or calm demeanor could hide the break in her voice. She felt herself break with it.

She set the picture back on his desk, carefully not to meet his eyes as she turned and forced her feet to carry her away.

"Sam, wait!" she heard Danny's chair spin and tip over as he stood up too fast. She heard his soft footsteps padding the floor as he chased after her, but she didn't want to wait, and she didn't want to hear what he had to say. She didn't want to cry in front of him again, but she knew he would chase her through the entire city if she didn't give him something.

"I'll be at Tucker's house after school." She stopped with her hand on the door handle. He stopped too, watching her with wide eyes as she spoke over her shoulder. "If you meet us there, I-I'll tell you whatever you want to know. About the ghost."

She didn't wait for his answer. She knew it was cowardly to walk away, but she hadn't been ready to tell him that she missed him, and she definitely wasn't ready to hear his response. Whether he showed up or not, that would be a response in itself. The door swung slowly closed behind her, and she was gone.

* * *

She hadn't expected him to actually show up.

But he did, bringing gifts of Nasty Burger and sodas. Sam wrinkled her nose at the smell of Tucker's BLT sandwich. Of course, it wasn't the kind of BLT that normal people would eat. It was a special at the Nasty Burger, the nastiest of all their burgers, as Sam would call it. The "lettuce" and "tomato" were replaced by chicken and turkey, in addition to the shameful amount of bacon spilling out of the bread. She wondered if all boys tried to apologize with fast food, or if it was just Danny's own weird way. Tucker seemed happy with it, though.

She told her story, the whole thing, hating the weight of Danny and Tucker's eyes on her as she recounted every painful detail. Danny insisted it was necessary, that not even the smallest thing could be left out.

"I told you this whole frog business was trouble." Tucker shook his head, scowling at her over the top of his burger. It was the first time she had seen his smile so much as falter since Danny showed up. Especially because Danny brought the burgers-and a limited time, special triple meat "delicacy" just for Tucker. "You could have gotten hurt." She shrugged and idly picked at her salad. Talking of dead frogs carcasses and angry ghosts really worked against her appetite.

"But I didn't."

"Not _yet_."

Sam rolled her eyes, biting her tongue to keep her calm composure. She really, really, really wasn't in the mood for an I-told-you-so from Tucker, so she focused on the other boy in the room. The one that wasn't quite as critical, and didn't reek of turkey, chicken, and the slaughtered pig Tucker called bacon.

"Danny, have you found anything?" She rose from her seat on the bed and stole the chair next to him.

"I haven't found much." Danny twirled around in his swivel chair to face her. He was on research duty while the other two finished their food. "These things take time. But don't worry, I don't really need to know who it is to catch it. I'm just looking for a name so Tucker will stop asking." Tucker scoffed, but didn't take time away from his burger to bother with a comeback.

"What are you looking up?" Sam leaned over his shoulder to get a peek at the computer screen. There were several tabs open, mostly records of local news. Some reports were older than Sam, some as old as her parents.

"Deaths in Casper High, fatal accidents, that kind of stuff. Usually a ghost haunts the location of its death, so that's where we start." Danny explained. He tore his eyes from the computer screen to look at her. "Besides the place of death, a ghost needs motivation-if they don't have some kind of attachment, a reason to be here, then they wouldn't be." Sam nodded. It sounded like something right out of her Ghost Science class.

"That makes sense." her eyes browsed over an article about a teacher struck dead by a heart attack. That didn't seem like her ghost. "So, how do we know the motive?" Sam asked, moving onto the next headline.

"You need to think like a ghost."

"Well that's a little hard, considering I'm, well, _alive_." Sam joked, letting her face ease into a smile as she listened to Danny's gentle laugh. It was deeper than she remembered, but still the same.

"Tell us, O Wise One, how do we," Tucker curved the fingers of his free hand into air quotes, "'think like a ghost,' as you say?"

"Yeah, Danny," Sam snorted. "Enlighten us."

Danny rolled his eyes at them, but the small smile that tugged at his lips never faded. He looked to the ceiling, thinking for a moment before answering. Probably knowing that if his answer was stupid, they would hold it over him for the rest of the night. Or the rest of his life.

"Really strong emotions can keep a spirit from moving on. Anger, guilt, love, that kind of stuff." He lightly drummed his fingers on the desk, watching the ceiling fan continue its slow circuit. "The ghost that's been, uh, haunting you, what do we know about it?"

The question took Sam by surprise. She hadn't thought much about it until then.

"Well, it thinks I'm a bully or something. Star said the same thing." She looked to Danny for inspiration, but he only spun slowly in his chair, lost in thought. Sometimes when she looked at him, she couldn't believe he looked so innocent-too innocent to be a ghost hunter, to have suffered so much. Two years ago, the thought of sweet, gentle Danny Fenton being a ghost hunter would have never crossed her mind, even though that's what his parents pushed him to be. It just wasn't him, but she guessed a lot of things could change in two years.

"It doesn't like frogs, apparently." Tucker added. He crumpled the empty burger wrapping and shot it into the trash can. "And likes slamming lockers on goth girls."

"That's good," Danny nodded, snapping out of his trance and swiveling back to the computer. His fingers were already flying over the keyboard before the chair stopped rolling.

" _Good_?" Sam didn't think it was good at all. Not when she was on the receiving end of those lockers.

"Not good as in, like, _good_ , but good like information good." Danny chuckled nervously. His fingers took a break from typing, and reached up to rub the back of his neck instead.

"Good sounds really weird if you say it that many times." Tucker pointed out.

"Thanks, Tuck." Sam glared at him under low lashes. She guessed his concern for her situation had already worn off. "Real helpful."

"No prob."

"Anyway," Danny cut in, drawing Sam's eyes back to his. The computer cast a soft glow on his face when he looked at her, making his skin glow with a pale luminance. "The ghost has an obsession with bullies. That could be why he's here." He nodded at his own logic, then scrolled through the hits on the computer. "Football player breaks neck during game.." he read aloud, slowly shaking his head. "That doesn't sound like our kind of thing. Casper High student hit by car...no.."

"What about that one?" Sam gasped, jutting her finger at the small news article on the screen. Its tiny lettering and and plain black ink didn't make it much of an eye catcher, but the headline had been just what she was looking for.

"Casper High Suicide." Danny read. "Good catch."

Sam squinted at the screen, but she still could barely make out the words. No wonder Tucker needed glasses. She rested her hand on Danny's shoulder for support and leaned closer. Actual words began forming instead of black blobs of digitalized ink.

 **"A regular student at Casper High committed suicide after being subject to countless attacks from his peers. Sidney Poindexter was the victim of relentless bullying from his fellow classmates, and finding no guidance from his teachers and advisers, chose to end his own life rather than endure his persecution."**

Sam felt her blood run cold as Danny read the passage out loud. She and Tucker, being on one of the lowest rungs in the social ladder, had faced their fair share of bullying. The more popular students always had something in store for the goth freak and the techno geek. If this Sidney Poindexter really was her ghost...Sam squeezed her eyes shut and just listened.

" **_It is suspected that Poindexter had been considering suicide for several weeks; some students that will not be named reported having seen narcotics in his bag and locker, but did not notify an authority until after his death. After being harassed and shoved in his own locker, Poindexter overdosed on those same pills and was found when a janitor complained about the foul smell coming from his locker. Casper High hopes to prevent such tragedies in the future..."_** Danny's voice trailed off, and left the rest unsaid. They'd heard enough.

"Woah," Sam whispered. Her voice came out hoarse. "That...that's terrible."

"Oh man." Tucker peered at the computer over Danny's other shoulder. "You think this guy's ghost is coming back for revenge?"

"That's my best guess." Danny scribbled the name on a paper. He was quiet, his easy smile gone. It was a strange thought, that ghosts had human lives before they died. Sam wondered if it bothered Danny as much as it bothered her. "It matches up with the whole "bully" thing, and the locker slamming on your hand." Danny said. Sam's hand hurt just from the memory of it. She wiggled the healing fingers against Danny's shoulder.

"It's been what, fifty years since this guy died? Why's he coming back now?" Tucker looked to Danny for the answer, but Danny just shrugged.

"Who knows? Maybe he just now found his way out of the Ghost Zone." Danny said, staring down at the piece of paper with Sidney Poindexter's name on it. He shivered, though none of the windows were open, and the ceiling fan was moving far too slow to actually give a breeze. The room was warm, almost warm enough to make Sam sweat. Good thing goths didn't sweat.

"Danny, are you okay?" she tried to see his face, but he wasn't looking at her.

"I better go," Danny said suddenly. Sam didn't even get a word in before he pushed back the chair and stood up. He scribbled down a few more notes in his book, and Sam couldn't help but notice his shoulders sag as he gave her an apologetic smile and tucked the book under his arm. "I've gotta be home soon." Sam and Tucker both nodded, silently wondering what was so urgent that he needed to be home so quickly. They'd only gotten out of school a few hours ago.

"Sam, I'll get Poindexter's file from the school and we can look over it. It might have some more information." Danny was already at the door when he stopped, his hand just hovering above the handle. He hesitated, his gaze falling to his shoes a while before it drifted back up to them.

"Thanks guys," he said quietly, "it was really good talking to you again." Sam bobbed her head, feeling stupid and useless and extremely tongue-tied. It was good talking to him again, but it was more than good. She didn't know what it was, but she wished it wasn't gone so soon.

"We're always here, you know." Tucker spoke in her absence. She let out a quiet sigh of relief. Good old Tucker. "And thanks for all the help, man. We'll nab this ghost in no time." He grinned, a wide, toothy smile, and Danny grinned back.

"Yeah," Danny nodded. His eyes fell to Sam, and his lips parted like he was about to speak, but then he just settled for a smile instead. "See you guys around."

Sam blinked and he was gone. She couldn't help but wonder what he was about to say, and what it was that dragged him away. But he would be back, she knew, because he had a ghost to catch.

 _"He'll be back."_ she reminded herself, taking a seat in the chair he left empty. She hoped she was right.

 **A/N: Wow, that only took me 20 rounds of editing. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this the first time, but...yikes. Took me forever to get it somewhat readable. Thanks for reading-I hope this chapter wasn't too cringe worthy. See you next week!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Just lay low," he had told her. "You'll be safer at home."

She'd done just like he said. She'd stayed away from school for three days, claiming to be sick, even though the last thing she wanted was for Poindexter to think she was scared. Well, she might be a little scared, especially after the frog eyes rolling around in her soup at lunch, but she still didn't like the idea of hiding away. Sam Manson was not one to run away, but, she decided to trust Danny-just this once. Now, three days later, she was seriously beginning to regret it.

Tucker came after school everyday to keep her company, and Danny was supposed to come over too, but...

She glanced to the clock again, for only the _hundredth_ time that night.

"That asshole." She hissed.

"He'll be here." Tucker called out in a slow, tired drawl. She didn't need to see Tucker's face to see the weary lines etched in his skin. It was evident enough in his voice, but when she did look-not even his thick rimmed glasses could hide the puffy eyes behind them. Sam had long ago given up on convincing him to go home and get some sleep.

"Yeah, that's what you said _yesterday_." She grumbled. The clock ticked on, an infuriating reminder of how late it was getting. "Oh, and the day before that? Remember?"

"He's got a lot to do." Tucker said calmly. He laid horizontal across her bed, his face illuminated blue under the light of his phone. Her feet stopped pacing long enough to glare at him.

"He could at least call."

Tucker didn't bother to look up from the blue screen of his phone, and Sam went back to pacing. "Hey, Sam, sorry for standing you up for a third day in a row!" She said in a poor imitation of Danny's low voice.

"You're too hard on him, Sam."

She didn't look back at him, didn't care to waste her energy contradicting him. It was no use. Tucker was loyal to a fault, even to people who didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve him or his unwavering loyalty, and Danny definitely didn't either.

She brought her pacing to a halt at the window, pressing her fingers against the frosted glass. Her hand grew numb as she listened to Tucker's phone go off again, and then the rustle of her bed sheets as he scrambled to find it.

Her eyes scanned the dark streets for any sign of Danny, but all she saw was the flickering streetlight on the cracked pavement. But that didn't stop her from trying. She couldn't stop wondering what was happening to him, maybe even worrying about him, even if he was an ass. She knew he was lying to her, keeping things from her. He disappeared for entire class periods with only the excuse of having to go to the bathroom. She didn't know what his bathroom procedure was, nor did she want to know, but she highly doubted it took an hour.

She pulled her hand away from the window and tried to rub feeling back into her cold fingers. The sound of Tucker's rapid texting tickled her ears. Her hands, still icy cold, folded under her arms as Sam pressed her forehead back against the window, relishing the cool touch it left on her. The sky danced with the ectoblasts of a ghost fight, lighting up the dark night like fireworks on black satin. Phantom again.

 _"That's the third one today."_ She thought to herself, wondering if the poor ghost boy had any spare time at all. That week had been especially bad, several battles lighting up the town each day. She wondered what the town would do if it weren't for him.

"I'm gotta use the bathroom." Tucker's voice startled Sam from her thoughts, making her jump and crack her forehead against the window. Thankfully, he didn't see her mini heart attack.

He left silence behind him, and Sam took the moment to close her eyes, feeling her breath fog up the window. Her head hurt, mostly from thinking about Danny, but the collision with the window didn't help. She rubbed her forehead and sighed.

 _"All you have to do is pick up the phone, Danny."_ She thought to herself, as if he could hear what was going on inside her head. _"If you would just_ talk _to me, we could..."_ No, they couldn't fix it. He wouldn't talk, she wouldn't listen, and Tucker...oh, Tucker. She hoped he would never change, even if he did frustrate her to no end.

Sam slid the curtains closed. She dropped into the soft cushion of her bed, the blankets warming off the chill from the window. Her black canopy hung over head, as dark as the diamond-studded night sky. Before the ghostly fireworks, that is. She closed her eyes and listened to the silence. Maybe she _was_ being too hard on Danny.

 _"No."_ Sam cut off the thought as quick as it appeared. She wouldn't let herself fall into that trap again. _"Tucker's just crazy. Crazy and-"_

She gasped as something buzzed against the small of her back, and then she rolled, falling off the bed in a tangle of purple sheets. Growling, she dug her way out of the pile and followed the buzzing noise back to the bed, back to Tucker's phone. She just stared at for a moment, watching it shake against her sheets as another text came in. Maybe it was his mother. Who else would be texting Tucker Foley, Techno Geek and social outcast?

Her eyes darted to the door, knowing that she shouldn't let her curiosity get the best of her. But, as usual, common courtesy lost the battle. She snatched up the phone and squinted her eyes again the glowing screen. The letters were tiny, and it took her eyes a second to adjust to the light, but she could still read it.

 **Don't worry, he'll take care of it.**

Give _who_ a few minutes? She scanned the message twice more before her eyes trailed to the contact hovering over the words. She blinked, squinted, blinked again, but the name was still there when she opened her eyes. The phone bounced against the mattress as it slipped from her fingers. Sam fell back into pile of purple blankets just as the door squeaked open.

"What happened?" she heard Tucker ask, no doubt eyeing the mess of blankets on her floor. Sam didn't answer. She couldn't process words if she wanted to, not at that moment. One word kept repeated in her head again and again. That name...

She had only known one person named Jazz her whole life, and as far as she knew, it was the same with Tucker. Jazz. Jasmine Fenton. Older sister of Danny Fenton. She couldn't believe it.

"Sam," Tucker yanked the blankets from her face and waved a hand in front of her blank eyes. "You okay?"

She slapped the hand away. Her mind focused back into reality, out her of her trance and into a fury.

"Since when have you been talking to Jazz?"

Tucker looked as though she'd slapped him in the face instead.

"J-Jazz?" He blinked at her behind his glasses. "What makes you think I'm talking to Jazz?"

As if on cue, the phone buzzed again. Tucker winced, grimacing at the glowing screen of his phone.

He didn't answer, but he didn't need to anyway. Sam suddenly remembered the pain shredding through her fingers as the locker cracked down on them. Running to the nurse, only to find Jazz standing in her place. Jazz had been the one that bandaged her fingers. But when she had left...Tucker hadn't. He stayed with her, talked with her while Sam was gone. She'd forgotten to ask him what exactly they had talked about, though she had a pretty good guess now.

 **Don't worry, he'll take care of it.**

"This is about Danny, isn't it?" She knew it was true, even before Tucker's eyes widened into huge green circles, before his jaw dropped and snapped shut again. Sam lost track of time when he stood there gaping, until he finally, slowly bobbed his head in affirmation.

"How long?" her voice was soft. A deadly quiet, probably the reason Tucker gulped before answering.

"Two years."

Those two words bounced around in her head like they'd had far too much coffee. And then they burned, burned like someone had lit a match on her brain. The whole time. Tucker had been talking with Jazz, talking to Danny through her, the _whole time_ she had been suffering in bitter silence. Stuck not knowing what was going on, what was happening with the boy that used to be her best friend. And he told her nothing. He _let_ her suffer.

"Sam," he reached for her, but she pushed him away. "I wanted to tell to you, I really did! But you wouldn't listen, Sam. You didn't even try!"

"I did try, you bastard." Tucker ducked as she threw a pillow at his head. "You knew what was happening to Danny, and you didn't think to tell me? You've been talking to Danny the entire time!" she fumed. It made sense. How could she have not thought of it before? No one could be so open, so forgiving...such a _liar_.

"I never talked to Danny." Tucker said, grabbing her wrists to keep the pillows from flying at him. "Only Jazz."

"Let go of me!" She thrashed against his grip.

"I actually talk to people, Sam, I don't just shut everybody out because I'm angry." Sam tore herself away from him as Tucker's voice rose into a yell. "I wanted answers, so I went to Jazz. Danny wouldn't talk, but...I knew Jazz would." He fell into a steady decrescendo with each word until they were barely anything but whispers on the edge of his lips.

"I didn't tell you because I knew you would do this." Sam turned her back, refused to look at him, even when his voice turned into a plea. It only made her more furious, though she didn't know why.

It took all Sam had not to whip around and throw something at him. If only she had something besides pillows.

"Sam, please," she shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. "She didn't tell me everything; there's still a lot that doesn't make sense, but...but I know enough to not hate Danny. And I know you don't really hate him either."

"Get away from me." Her voice snarled with venom and rage, shook with disbelief. Her head hurt, and her hands trembled so fiercely that she couldn't throw anything at him if she wanted to. Which she desperately did.

"You still love Danny," Tucker stepped over the pile of blankets to reach her, but she only stepped away.

"No I don't." The tremble had moved on to her voice now, and Sam had to bite down on her lip to make it go away. But that still didn't work, even as warm, metallic blood mingled with her purple lipstick.

"Yes, you do, and I do too." She'd never heard him so desperate, but she didn't care. Not then. Not after he lied to her for years.

"There's a reason Danny's like this, and if you would just _listen-_ "

"Get out!" Sam screamed as she turned on him, and Tucker didn't have a chance to duck this time. The pillow hit him smack in the face, almost hard enough to knock him over. "I mean it, Tucker." It was rage that made her voice tremble this time. "Leave!"

She expected another fight, or at least a protest, but there was only silence until the door clicked shut behind him. She didn't bother to wipe the tears from her cheeks. They rolled off her chin and fell on the carpet, on her bare toes.

Sam stood there until her body stopped trembling and the tears dried on her cheeks. A new batch pooled in her shining eyes, but she hardly noticed. She had answers to get, even if it meant doing something stupidly dangerous. Or dangerously stupid.

The drawer groaned as she yanked it open, pulling out the old wrist wray and slapping it on. Sam had the window open, and one leg out before her budding tears even hit the ground.

* * *

Sam had always been quick and quiet on her feet. That talent helped her win nearly every ninja game she, Danny, and Tucker had played in their younger days. Its usefulness had faded off after that, until that night, when the bitter cold stung her nose and coated her lungs in a thin layer of ice. She hardly noticed, though, even when her nose grew numb from the wind, her tears drying into tiny icicles on her cheeks. She was too focused on keeping quiet, using the shadows to hide her figure as she trailed behind Tucker. He was never any good at spy games. Sam spotted him trotting down the street the second she slipped from her window, and noticed that he was going the opposite way from his house.

She knew right away that he had the same plan she did. So she wasn't surprised at when he sneaked past the unlocked doors of the highschool, not noticing the silent figure slipping in a minute after.

The school was silent, abandoned, as most schools are at 11:00 at night. It was even darker than the sleeping town outside. Dark enough for Sam to lose him in the twisting halls and writhing shadows, but not for long. His voice carried, especially when the entire school was wrapped in a blanket of silence.

"I don't know, man." The voice found her as she rounded the school's main hallway. Sam followed it left, down the next row of lockers. "She's like, really pissed right now." She recognized that voice. Sam was almost relieved that he hadn't left, until she remembered that she was, indeed, really pissed off at the owner of that voice.

"I didn't think she wanted to see me anyway." another voice answered. Deep, tired, quiet. Danny. Her feet slowed at the sound of his voice. She clung closer to the shadows, though she knew he couldn't see her yet. "I've been working my ass off this week. I meant to come over, but.." His sentence faded off, probably ending in a tired shrug. Sam brought her gentle footsteps to a halt and pressed her back against the lockers, content to just listen for the moment. She would show herself eventually, but she wanted to see what Danny had to say first. Chances were, he wouldn't be very honest in front of her. Sam chewed her lip at that thought, wondering what made him so afraid to tell her the damn truth.

"Maybe you should go home and sleep," Tucker's voice again. "No offense, dude, but you don't look too good."

"I can't." he muttered, exhaustion seeping through the soft sigh that followed. "Sam's probably going crazy being cooped up at home," definite yes to that, "and I don't want her to come back until I know she'll be safe."

A sigh, but Sam couldn't tell whether it was from Tucker or Danny.

"You gotta sleep sometime, though." Tucker prodded. Danny's reply was too soft for Sam to hear. She inched closer, closer, and a little closer until Danny gasped, stopping Sam dead in her tracks. Her nose was just a few centimeters from the edge of the corner. She scooted back as fast as she dared, hoping that she wasn't the cause of that gasp.

"Danny, are you okay? Why is your breath, like, _blue_?"

Sam wrinkled her nose, thinking her ears must be tricking her. Blue breath? That didn't make sense. But did anything about Danny really make sense? She never got the chance to answer that question. The locker in front of her suddenly shot open, coming in sharp contact with, no surprise, her face. She only saw a flash of green paint before she was on the ground, pain racing up her back, tracing her spine like claws against bone, blood warming her lip. She squeezed her eyes shut against the throbbing in her nose and brought a hand to her mouth.

"Sam? What the hell?"

Now it was her turn to gasp and struggle to get back to her feet. "What are you doing here?" his wide blue eyes stared down at her, brow furrowed in confusion. Maybe it was anger-she was more concerned about the ache spreading over her face than what he was feeling.

"You-" she stuttered. Her lips were a bloody, blubbering mess when she tried to talk. She pulled her hand away and forced herself not to look at the red streaks smeared across her palm. "You were taking too long."

"Sam," Danny just shook his head, staring at her like she was the strangest thing he had ever seen. And, living in Amity Park, he had seen a lot of strange things. But not strange enough to keep him from cupping his hands under her chin, wiping the blood off her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You really shouldn't be here." His voice was much softer than before, all trace of anger and confusion replaced with tender concern. Gentle, genuine concern. She jerked away from his touch, even though a small, rebellious part of her didn't want to.

"Well, I had to find you, cause you certainly weren't making an effort to find me." Her words came out cold, clipped, just like she wanted them to be. She could see his face turn scarlet, even through the darkness. His eyes fell away from her, and he didn't reach for her again.

Tucker took his place, nudging Danny aside and bringing a tissue to Sam's hand.

"Sam, you're bleeding really bad." he said when she just stared down at the tissue, refusing to take it. A frustrated sigh rippled through him, and he pressed the tissue against her nose himself. Crimson spread through it like a red sunset on clouds. There wasn't a spot of white left by the time Sam ripped the tissue out of his hand and held it herself.

"I don't need your help" her fingers pinched the swollen, red lump that was her nose, making her sound like she had one hell of a cold. She read the "whatever, Sam" in his eyes, but the rest of him stayed silent.

"And I don't need _your_ help either." she said, at Danny this time. "You both lied to me, and you," Danny's eyes widened at the finger pointed at his face, "stand me up three days in a row. 'I just want to help, Sam.'" she mocked his voice. "Yeah right."

"Come on, Sam. I'm sorry. I've just been-"

"Really busy. Yeah, I heard. You couldn't have picked up a phone?" he blinked at her once, twice, before the sparkle vanished from his eyes like someone had flicked off the lights. He sunk into silence.

Tucker gulped when her icy stare rolled over to him, but her mind came to a blank. Sure, she had plenty she wanted to tell him, but at the moment...Sam just shook her head. She could still feel the trickle of blood running down her nose, clotting on the bud of her lip, but the pain had faded into numbness. Her face, her mind, body, thoughts, emotion-it all just felt numb. "I don't even know what to say to you."

Tucker said nothing in response, just staring back at her until Sam directed her attention back to Danny. The boy who was more a mystery than a man. A crossword for imaginary words. There were still streaks of blood on his hand, like he had forgotten to wipe it off. She could still feel his thumb tracing the soft skin of her cheek. Sam pushed the thought out of her mind.

"I'll help you get this ghost," she said, clenching her hands into fists to keep them steady, and when her nails dug into her palms like tiny daggers, she squeezed her fists even tighter. "and then we can go back to not talking to each other again, okay?" The pain in her hands kept her from thinking about the words, about never talking to him again. She didn't know why, despite everything that he did, it still struck her as a dreadful thought. The kind that made her stomach feel heavy and weightless at the same time.

"I don't want that, Sam." That quiet, heart-tugging voice again.

"Really? Because it kind of seems like you do." Her not so quiet, less heart-tugging voice responded. It was followed by a silence that made the earlier silence hold its breathe.

"Sam, I just..." Danny chewed his lip, one hand running lazily over the back of his neck. "You don't understand."

But how could she? How did he expect her to understand something he wouldn't explain? She didn't bother to ask.

"Whatever, Danny." she tasted a bit of the dried blood on her lips as she said it, the metallic taste stinging her tongue. "I'll listen when you want to explain," she promised, but he made no attempt to do so. _"Didn't think so."_ her inner voice sighed. She waited, watching the dark slope of his hair cover his eyes, his pale skin tight over a clenched jaw, until the silence nearly drove her crazy.

Sam knew they were watching her back when she turned around. All she needed was a break, a few minutes to clear her mind. Preferably without the boys, but she didn't bother to object when she heard Tucker's quiet steps following her all the way to the bathroom. As long as he stayed far, far behind. Sam pulled her jacket tighter, hugging her arms around her torso. The night was only getting colder.

* * *

Tucker waited by the stalls as Sam hovered over the bathroom sink. Her reflection glared back at her through the mirror. There were bags under her eyes, even though she had done little more than sleep and grumble the past three days. They added twenty years to her pale, doll like face, especially when the flickering lights made her purple eyes look almost black. But it was nothing a little splash of cold water wouldn't fix. She hoped.

Sam reached for the handle to turn on the water, but the handle snapped towards her before her fingers even grazed it. Hot water spilled from the faucet, thin breaths of steam curling up to the mirror.

She blinked, thinking her eyes must be pulling a fast one on her, until the next faucet whipped on in a blink, and the one next to it, and the one after that. Her jaw dropped in horrid fascination as every sink flicked on one after another, turning the bathroom mirror into a foggy slate of gray.

"Tucker?" Sam rasped. She backed away from the gushing sinks, tripping over her own feet. The sound of rushing water coated over her voice, making the word just barely audible. The steam brought tears to her eyes and a cough to her throat. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She almost screamed when a hand wrapped around her arm, and she thrashed until she realized it was Tucker's hand that held her. A silent understanding passed between them, and whatever anger they both harbored vanished on sight.

Sam's lungs ached as the air was ripped away in a sudden burst of cold. The door slammed shut in front of them, and refused to budge, even when Tucker rammed his shoulder against it hard enough to make the door groan.

"Turn off the water!" Tucker shouted over the hiss of the faucets. "I can't even see straight!" The hot water had fogged up the whole room, surrounding them in a misty veil.

She obeyed, fighting her way through the smothering steam until she hovered over the sink. She was coughing almost as loud as the faucet was screaming when she reached for the lever. But when she pulled the lever in the opposite direction, the water didn't turn off. It changed.

A gurgling groan rose from the deep recesses of the faucet's throat. The stream of water hesitated, coming out in frantic spurts before transforming into a much slower, much darker substance. The crimson liquid poured out with the slow crawl of honey, sizzling when it made contact with the pool of water. Like dye, the crimson spread through out the sink basin, turning the steaming water into something else entirely.

The mist swirled in scarlet tendrils over the sink. It curled around her face and burned the inside of her nose. Sam backed away until her back pressed against the stall doors, covering her trembling lips with an equally trembling hand as all the faucets gurgled and spewed red.

"Sam!"

A scream clogged her throat as Tucker pulled her arm. "Come on!" With another forceful tug, Tucker jolted her into action. And then they were running, tripping through the scarlet haze, where some parts were thick enough to be a curtain of blood.

"Almost there," Tucker shouted, pointing to the door he had blasted open with a shot from Danny's ectogun. Sam gulped, remembering that the gun Tucker held was the only one Danny had with him. Which meant Danny was...she gulped at the thought of him so defenseless, alone, without a gun. She begged her feet to move faster.

The door swayed lazily on its hinges, marred by a smoking crater where the lock and handle had once been. It gave them no resistance as they shoved past and into the hall.

"Danny!" Sam shouted in between wheezing breaths. She swore her breath came out red.

Sam knew he could take care of himself, with or without a gun, but the thought did little to comfort her.

She was pulling Tucker now, being the faster of the two. She held her breath as they pulled around the bend of the 700 lockers to find..no Danny. In his place were papers and books scattered all throughout the hallway. Lockers were flung open on their hinges, folders and forgotten lunches of weeks past spilling out of them.

"DANNY?" Sam screamed as loud as her raw throat would let her. She suddenly didn't care that he had stood her up, that he had ignored her- everything that infuriated her suddenly seemed so insignificant. She couldn't let those last, awful words she said to him be the last ones he ever heard her say. "DANNY!" Her eyes searched frantically for any sign of him, but he was nowhere to be found.

Sam opened her mouth to shout for him again, but nothing came out-not even a whisper. She told her left foot to take another step, but nothing happened. A chill swept through her, stayed within her. Sam felt her lungs freeze over and halt her breath. A smile crawled onto her lips, though Sam never gave them permission to do curl up like that. She didn't recall telling her hands to reach out and snatch the gun from Tucker's hands, and yet, there it was, glistening in her own hands. And never did she even _think_ to raise the gun to her head, but there it was, pressed against her temple.

Her head slowly turned, wide eyes falling to the open locker. 724. The mirror glinted back at her like a wink. Sam saw her own face reflected back in the smooth surface. She saw the gun pointed to her head, saw her finger snake over to the trigger. Sam wanted to scream, but her mouth refused to obey. All she could do was watch her own reflection.

Her raven hair clung to her face in stringy locks. Her face was set in a calm, neutral expression, though inside, she was screaming and beating against her own skull. And her eyes...her eyes were all wrong. The amethyst was gone, replaced by a slate gray. They weren't her eyes, but someone else's. Sam vaguely recalled the eyes, but couldn't remember why, or who they belonged to.

Her last thought was that they seemed so unnaturally innocent before her finger tightened around the trigger, and everything vanished into black.

 **A/N: Sorry I took so long to update. Life has been crazy the last few weeks. Thank you guys for being so patient!**


	9. Chapter 9

Danny was really starting to regret giving up his gun.

Sure, he had other means of defending himself, but with Sam and Tucker so close by, his other methods were risky-to say the least. But he didn't have much of a choice.

Sam and Tucker were in the bathroom when his ghost sense went off for the second time that night. Well, probably _fifth_ time, if the ghosts outside of the school counted. It wasn't long after that when lockers started flying open, scattering books, papers, pencils, lunches that had been turned to mush by the hand of time.

"Poindexter?" Danny called over the clash of lockers. A breeze caught his hair and twirled it into black curls above his head. "I know you don't like bullies, and I get that, but you've got the wrong girl." He paused, waiting for the flurry of papers to calm, but they only grew more fervent. The swirling wind had kicked up a tornado of forgotten homework.

"Poindexter," Danny cupped his hands and yelled to the tornado. "Why don't you show yourself so we can talk about this like civilized people?" he shrugged, clearing his throat. "or ghosts, I guess." No answer.

An arctic gust swept over him, powerful enough to make him stumble back a few steps. He had to pull his shirt back down when it caught the wind, lifting like it wanted to fly away. The air around him sizzled and cackled like it was alive, like it had its own voice, calling his name. It sounded an awful lot like Sam's voice, actually.

"Danny!"

Wait. That _was_ Sam's voice.

 _"Sam!"_ he gasped, eyes searching for her through the blur of locker contents. He couldn't find her, not yet, but her voice was getting louder, which meant she was getting closer, and Poindexter didn't seem like he was leaving any time soon. Danny would have to take extreme measures, and fast.

He swore under his breath and ducked as a locker flew off its hinges and joined the growing tornado. His name, Sam's voice again, and much closer. Danny checked over his shoulder, just to make sure she wasn't close enough to see him when two blinding rings delved his torso into pale light, slowly coursing over his body until he was covered neck to toe in black and silver.

"Sorry, Poindexter," Danny's voice was taken by the wind, as was the fading light of his transformation. He was talking more to himself anyway, considering he didn't know where Poindexter was yet. He had a pretty good clue, though. "But I can't let you hurt her."

With a silver-gloved hand, Danny brushed ivory hair from his eyes and leaped into the air. He phased through the tornado and into the eye of the storm, hidden from view by the wall of papers surrounding him. And there, smack in the center of all the chaos, was the only other floating boy in the school.

Clad in shamefully oversized glasses and a slicked-back comb-over, Poindexter would have been a sight to laugh at, if not for the furious glow to his stormcloud eyes. Those same stormy eyes widened at the sight of Danny, and for just a second, Danny saw what he imagined was the original Sidney Poindexter-wide, curious eyes, slightly hunched shoulders, and a gaping mouth that could almost hint at a smile. Danny didn't know what he would be smiling at, though. _He_ sure wasn't smiling, especially when the sound of Sam's panicked voice kept ringing in his head like warning bells. He'd never heard her so.. _afraid_ , and he wanted more than anything to take that terror away.

"Jeepers.." Poindexter gasped in a high voice, much squeakier than what would be expected from a dangerous, tornado-creating spirit. "You're the halfa!" Poindexter blinked and fixed his glasses, then blinked again as his mouth parted into a soft "O" shape. The tornado around him faltered just long enough for Danny to hear the gentle pad of running footsteps coming closer. He wrestled with the urge to look around, but didn't want to risk dragging Poindexter's attention to the owner of those feet. "You-you're real!"

"Last time I checked, yeah." Danny said as a glowing orb, green like the stems of fresh daises, came to life in his palm, pulsating with carefully contained power.

 _"Get this over with fast,"_ Danny told himself as Poindexter's eyes widened at the imposing sphere, _"before Sam runs right into the middle of this mess."_

But Sam had always been a fast runner, much faster than him, in fact, and Danny bit back a groan when Poindexter's gaze flickered to the sound of footsteps rounding the corner. The smaller ghost growled, all sense of innocence gone as his eyes turned from a slate gray to a menacing red, like hot coals under a fire. His clenched fists began to glow, faintly at first, but steadily growing into a green flame.

"That bully.." He growled, upper lip curled into a snarl that exposed bright white teeth.

"She's not a bully." The green orb flickered and dissipated in Danny's palm. There was no time to fight, not in the middle of the hallway. Not when Sam would be there any second. Right in the line of fire, of course. With his hands free now, Danny curled his fingers around Poindexter's thin, lanky arm and shot towards the ceiling. He felt the tornado falter behind him, dropping its contents to the ground in a _whoosh_ as Poindexter yelped and pried at Danny's hands.

"Hey, Buster! Put me down!" the squeaking voice grated against Danny's ear.

"Shut up," He hissed back. Danny risked a glanced down, watching Sam curve around the corner just as he brought Poindexter soaring past the roof.

"You're letting her get away!" Poindexter shrieked into the chilling night air as Danny's feet touched down on the roof. He thrashed like wild animal, but Danny held on like a clamp, one hand guiding Poindexter's elbow, and the other one clutching the collar of his shirt.

"Yeah, that's kind of the point."

At those words, Poindexter suddenly stopped thrashing, stopped yelling and snarling. If he could breathe, he probably would have brought that to a halt too. Cold eyes fell onto Danny, and he swore those stormcloud eyes flashed with lightening.

"You're _protecting_ her." He said slowly, quietly. Much the same way that Sam spoke when she was about to get really, really pissed. Danny loosened his hold on Poindexter, but didn't drop him. No way he would let him go, not when Poindexter was staring at him with those eyes. Dead eyes, and at the same time, flashing like they had a thousand years of wildfires bottled up behind that slate surface. "Which means you're just as bad as she is."

Danny's jaw clenched, his fists tightening once again around Poindexter's collar. Damn dead eyes or not, it wasn't enough to keep Danny from doing his job. From protecting Sam.

"Sam _isn't_ a bully." Danny spoke each word slowly and deliberately, giving the smaller ghost a little shake with every syllable, but Poindexter's eyes only grew colder, and colder. And then they exploded with the burn of those raging wildfires, the flash and fury of that caged up lightening.

Danny felt whatever was in those gray eyes blast him in the chest, and then he was flying, or, more like _tumbling_ through the air. His back collided with the edge of the roof, knocking out whatever breath he had left. The _smack_ of his body against stone reverberated in his head as he fell from the roof, just barely able to cling onto the edge with his fingertips.

" _Poindexter_!" Danny shouted when his breath rushed back into his lungs, but the other ghost was already gone. And Danny knew where to. He launched himself over the edge like a professional gymnast. The tingling prickle of intangibility consumed him for half a second before he shot through the roof, tearing through the ceiling just as Sam ripped the gun from Tucker's hands.

"Sam!" He screamed, not giving a damn that she would be seeing him as Phantom instead of the Danny she knew. That didn't matter, even if Tucker saw it too. He didn't care about anything else but that gun pointed at Sam's head. _His_ gun, in _her_ hand. "Sam, put the gun down!" But she didn't hear him, no matter that he was screaming loud enough to wake all of China. Her index finger curved over the trigger, seeming to move in slow motion. He flew at her as fast as he could, but it still felt too slow, like he was stuck in slow motion with her.

He was just two feet away when Sam tilted her head slightly to the side, the muzzle buried against her temple. Her finger squeezed down on the trigger just as Danny collided with her, wrapping his arms around her waist and knocking them both to the ground. He heard the gunshot, felt it sizzle the hair by his ear. Something behind him exploded, but he didn't care to look.

" _Sam_!" Danny cried with the hoarse croak of a long time smoker, shaking her limp figure in his silver gloved hands. The gun clattered to the ground when her eyes opened, but rather than the beautiful amethyst he knew, they were as gray as stormclouds. He shouldn't have been shocked-why else would Sam try to shoot herself in the head? Nevertheless, Danny was taken back enough to let his grip loosen for only a second, but it was enough for Poindexter.

Danny was thrown off again, this time falling against a locker. It crushed beneath his weight. The metal frame clung to him like a leech, slicing through his suit and drawing a faint trail of green on his arms. He phased it off, and the locker door clattered to the floor just as a shot grazed past Danny's stark white hair. The locker next to him shattered into metal splinters.

"Phantom!"

A hand, a _human_ hand, latched onto Danny's arm and pulled him around the corner. "Phantom, thank God!" Tucker's panicked voice was thick with hysteria. "That's my friend out there, and she's-she's possessed or something!" The hand not clinging to Danny's arm tugged at Tucker's lopsided beret. His fingers dug into the faded red material, smashing it down on his head like it was trying to fly away.

"Yeah, I know." Danny said in the calmest voice he could manage as the locker above them exploded in metal shards and neon green sparks. "And she's got a gun."

"It's Danny's. Danny Fenton. Did you see him?" Danny had to decipher the words from Tucker's jumbled slur and heavy breathing.

"Uh, yeah, he's fine. Breathe, Tucker."

"But- _wait,_ how do you know my name?"

Danny cursed. "Can we talk about this later, please?" He said, peeking his head around the corner to see Sam struggling with the gun. "I need to get Poindexter out before he accidentally shoots himself, and the, uh, goth girl. But you need to go, like, _now_." He couldn't mess around much longer, but he couldn't just _leave_ Tucker..

"No." Tucker shook his head, gulping. "I-I can't leave her."

"I'll take care of it. Go. _Please_." Poindexter had (mostly) gotten control of the gun now, making Sam's focused expression and tangled hair both a beautiful and frightening sight. Tucker tugged on Danny's elbow, hard, and tore Danny's eyes away from Sam.

"How are you going to get Poindexter out without hurting her?" Tucker's fingernails bit into Danny's elbow. It might have been painful, but Tucker's hands were trembling too much to do any harm.

A quiet sigh slipped past Danny's lips. He _really_ didn't have time for this-Poindexter was already sweeping gray eyes across the battlefield, looking for them-but Tucker wasn't letting go. Danny rubbed the back of his neck through the torn glove on his hand, a nervous habit he never grew out of. Tucker furrowed his eyebrows at the familiar gesture. Danny's usually soft white hair fell in his face, but the looming night cast an inky shadow on the strands, making it almost black. For a minute, that shadowy hair covered his brilliant green eyes, and he looked like a completely different person.

"If I can phase through Sam, I should be able to pull Poindexter out with me." And that voice sounded _so_ much like...Danny's eyes stared into his lap, and he didn't see Tucker's narrowed eyes widen into pools of jade. "But I can't do that if you're _still here._ "

The words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Tucker's eyes were so wide that they almost stretched above the frame of his glasses, glazed as a doughnut, his mouth hung down like a nutcracker statue. Like he was looking at the ghostly superhero before him, and at the same time, not seeing anything at all. And completely oblivious to the squeaky, nasal mutterings coming from the voice just down the hall.

"Tucker?" Danny asked, snapping his fingers in front of Tucker's glazed eyes. He'd heard of people passing out with their eyes open, and was desperately hoping that this instance wasn't the first time he's seen it for himself. Horrible, awful, terrible timing. Lopsided footsteps pounded down the hall. "You there? Snap out of it, Tuck! I really need you right now." Tucker reached up, slowly pushing Danny's hand, still poised in a snap, away from his face. He shook his head.

"Holy shit-"

"Not so fast, Halfa!" Danny cringed at the whiny voice. Too late for Tucker to run, too late for a sneak attack. Danny's hands shot up, raising an ectoshield around him and Tucker just as the shot sounded from the gun. It fell on the green shield, like a glimmering bubble around them, and absorbed into it. "Nice trick, bully." Sam/Poindexter drew back (his, her, their? We'll go with _their_ ) foot and kicked the shield. It shuddered, but didn't fall. Not yet, at least.

"Danny?" Tucker asked softly.

"Thank God you're conscious." Danny said, glancing at Tucker over his shoulder. He winced as ripples tore through his shield from another kick. "Good morning. Please don't pass out on me again."

"But you're a..a ghost!"

"Thanks for reminding me." Danny braced both hands against the shuddering shield. In the corner of his eyes, he could see a black combat boot pounding against the barrier. "And we'll both be ghosts if you don't listen to me."

" _Danny_." Tucker said again, sidling up next to the ghost boy and bracing his own hands against the shield. Danny was about to inquire just what the hell he was doing when Tucker's word choice hit him. The name, that tone... _uh oh_.

Sam kicked the dome like a soccer ball. Danny grunted, his whole body shaking with each shudder of the shield.

"I knew you had something to do with Phantom but..." Tucker muttered to himself. "I didn't think she meant it so _literally_."

"Tucker, what are you talking about?" Danny groaned, staring at Tucker through the white bangs hanging in his eyes.

"Drop the shield." Tucker said, his voice surging with strength that wasn't there a minute ago, even though the shudders of the shield turned his hands to jelly.

" _What_?"

"You can't hold it up for much longer." Danny scowled at him, but didn't bother to object. Couldn't argue very much when he was shaking like a wet puppy. "I'll hold Sam, uh, _Poindexter_ , and you do that phase thing you were talking about."

"But-"

"Just do it fast, okay?" Tucker gulped. His whole body trembled now, not completely from holding up the shield, but it was as good an excuse as any. "I-I trust you, Danny."

"It's Phantom-"

"I'm not talking to Phantom." Tucker's glasses slipped down to the top of his nose when he turned to look at the boy beside him. "I'm talking to Danny." Such certainty in those bright green eyes. He _knew,_ but, how? Danny didn't have the energy to argue back. Or the time. What was left of the shield flickered, only a faint green now. It only had a few seconds left, if that.

"Fine...just...get ready."

"I...am ready." Tucker said, though he trembled as much as the ectoshield, his throat bobbing up and down in nervous gulps, yet his eyes were determined as ever. Their fierce green seemed to make up for the fading green of the shield, nearly transparent now.

"Now!"

Danny threw up the shield, the little bit that was still there, knocking Poindexter to the ground as the wall of energy smacked into Sam's body. The gun fell from their hands, skidding across the floor and resting against a row of lockers. Tucker wrapped his arms around Sam's middle as Danny's figure morphed into a dark blur. Like a mist, he phased into her thrashing form. Sam screamed, a mix of both her voice and Poindexter's. She threw Tucker to the ground, her body convulsing in a battle between three spirits in one body. Her eyes flashed from green, to gray, to amethyst, then back again.

Sam's hands clawed at her hair, pulling and ripping at the ebony strands. The pale, porcelain skin on her face stretched over her sharp cheekbones in a contortion of desperation. Green eyes morphed to gray slits, and with one last thrash of her arms, Sam ran, crawling into locker 724.

"Sam! Danny!" Tucker scrambled to his feet and chased after Sam's vanishing figure, but came upon an empty locker. A green glow consumed it, forcing Tucker to turn away and shield his eyes against the light. And by the time it faded to a dim glow, then there was nothing but the sinister glint of the mirror to stare back at him.

* * *

It was a mental battle, a fight between three wills struggling for the same body. An invisible force that could be manipulated by the owner, and the strength came down to who wanted the vessel more. In the end, it was Danny who won the wrestling match of minds, and with one last mental shove, Poindexter was flushed out.

The dorky ghost fell to the ground with a thump, groaning and holding his head.

"You...you bully!" he hissed, his narrowed eyes full of malice as he stared up at his host and enemy. Two bullies in one.

"Let it go, Poindexter." Danny said in a groan of his own. "Just get in the thermos, and, ah shit." Using Sam's hands, he patted the back belt loop where his thermos usually was. But since he wasn't in his own body...

 _"No thermos."_ he cursed, and hoped Sam couldn't hear his thoughts, even though they were technically in her head already.

" _You_ get in the thermos!" Poindexter squealed, latching one hand around Sam/Danny's ankle, and raising the other one in a tight fist over his head, like he wanted to bring it down to smash a bug.

If only that was the case. The lockers responded instantly, shaking, rattling as anxious puppies waiting to play, but not nearly as cute.

"You don't have a thermos _either_ , genius!" Danny kicked Poindexter's hand off Sam's leg and forced their body intangible as the lockers came to life. He covered their eyes with a hand as the gray spludges flew past. Gray locker doors, gray books, the entire building was the same shade as Poindexter's stormy eyes. Rain clouds brewing with disaster. Sam's body flickered between intangibility and it's physical form.

 _"Damn it,"_ Danny thought as he narrowly dodged a sharpened pencil and a soggy sacklunch. _"I can't keep her intangible for long."_ He grunted as a rush of pain fell over his head. His feet, or _Sam's_ feet, touched down on the floor, completely solid and visible. A perfect target for an angry Poindexter.

Danny resorted to the old-fashioned dodge, tuck, and dive method as the gray projectiles flew at them, but Danny couldn't seem to make Sam's body cooperate. She was fighting against him, making it really difficult to maintain control.

 _"Sam? Listen to me-ow!"_ The sleek comb that looked like it fell out of a 50's movie slapped him right in the face. He ripped it off, and snapped it in his hands as a can of soda burst mid-air and soaked Sam from her hair to her skirt.

Danny fell against the same locker that he swore he had dented earlier, though this one didn't have a scratch on it. In fact, none of them did, even though he'd seen at least two blasted to bits. It wasn't until Danny was hit by a magazine sporting poodle skirts and greaser jackets that he finally understood.

 _"The mirror!"_ Danny berated himself for not realizing it before. _"It's a timeloop!"_

"How do you like that, Buster?" Poindexter shouted, but Danny didn't spare him a glance.

He set off in a sprint, occasionally leaping over or ducking under flying school supplies. His eyes strained to see past the blurs, darting along the rows of lockers until he spotted the one he was looking for. A new, clean locker 724 called to him like a chorus of angels. The paint was solid and unchipped, although gray, it still was much more presentable than the modern locker, rusted to it's core and barely hanging off the hinges. Just as he reached the handle with a sweet sigh of relief, Danny was thrown back by a gust of wind.

"Where do you think you're going?" Poindexter's shrill voice rose over the sound of notebooks whipping past Sam's ears. The spiral binding on one of them clipped Sam's ear, and he felt a tiny trickle of blood trail onto her face. "You're in my world now, and you'll see what it's like to be bullied!"

Poindexter took a step closer and raised his arms higher. Danny didn't care to wait and see what that did. He knew this school, and he knew that there should be a fire alarm just around the corner, if things hadn't changed too much in 50 something years.

Danny took advantage of Poindexter's deep concentration and closed eyes. For the first time in his life, he was glad that Sam was always a better runner than he was, because her legs carried him down the hall nearly as fast as he could fly. Pens pelted their back and flying textbooks threatened to pummel them as they slipped around the corner. It took a few seconds to spot the fire alarm, considering the usual bright red was replaced by a dull gray that blended into the dull gray wall, and floor, _and_ lockers..

But if he was right, that fire alarm would buy him a lot of time, and Danny prayed he was as they pulled down the lever. The blasting of alarm bells filled the hall, coating over the sound of Poindexter's slamming lockers and whirlwind of school supplies. Danny covered his ears and held his breath. Just as he hoped, teems of teenagers flooded out of the doors, filling the hall with confused mutters and anxious glances. Figments of Poindexter's memories. Danny blended into the crowd, via Sam's body, and nimbly slipped past the poodle skirt girls and boys in leather jackets. _"Locker 720..722..ha! Suck that Poindexter."_

The 50s students had begun crowding around the highschool ghost, giving Danny the perfect opportunity to crawl into the locker and plead with Sam to give up the fight for _just a second_ so that he could turn them both intangible and slip out of there. His second battle of willpower that day came into play, between him and Sam, both fighting for the possession of her body. As it turns out, fear is a big motivator, and when Danny heard the lockers next to them being crushed and highschoolers screaming, he found that last push of power to turn them intangible. Sam's presence inside the body recoiled at the tingling sense washing over them. He didn't give her a chance to push it down. Danny flung himself through the mirror into his sweet, beautiful world of color, and right into the face panicked teenage boy in streetlight clothes.

"Ahhh!" Tucker screamed and fell in a flailing mess of arms.

"Tucker, the thermos!"

"Danny?"

"The thermos!" he shouted.

"Okay! I'm getting it."

Danny phased his spirit from Sam's body, catching her limp form as she fell to the ground, unconscious. "Here!" Tucker shoved the old, dented thermos in Danny's outstretched hand.

"Thanks!" He said so quickly it was barely a word at all, and gently lowered Sam into his arms. "Take care of her. I'm going to take care of Poindexter before he gets out of that mirror."

He didn't wait to hear Tucker's reply before he flew, in his own body now, through the timeloop once more. His world drained of color, turning even the people crowding the hall into various shades of gray. One of those "people" being Poindexter himself, who was swiveling his head back and forth in search of the enemy who was hurtling at him at that very moment. Poindexter let out a shrill cry as Danny collided with him. The two smashed into the gray lockers, Poindexter receiving the brunt of the impact. The other students screamed and scattered like a trail of ants after their line has been disrupted.

Poindexter rose shakily, but didn't have time to steady himself before Danny's gloved fist came in sharp contact with Poindexter's nose. He howled as his back smacked against the wall, creating several splinters and cracks that climbed up the wall like vines. Hand to hand was really not his strength.

"Sorry to do this, Poindexter," Danny sighed, uncapping the Fenton Thermos. "I know you had good intentions, but you can't just go around attacking people. That's just bad taste."

Poindexter's nose wrinkled in a scowl, his teeth slightly bared as he raised his hands for one final attack. The lockers trembled at their hinges, but Danny just shook his head.

"The same move again? You should learn some different techniques."

But this time, it wasn't just the lockers that were shaking, but so were the walls, and the floor, and himself. Poindexter's war cry grew increasingly louder and higher in pitch, and the shaking rose along with him.

The thermos bounced in his hands and Danny struggled to keep his aim steady. The sound of students screaming reached his ears, and that's when Danny noticed the chunks of ceiling raining down over his head.

 _"He's taking down this whole dimension."_ Danny thought as the timeloop students shouted and fell to the ground by the dozens. _"And me with it!"_

A gray slab fell just in front of his feet and a new sheet of ash fell from above, completely curtaining Poindexter from his view. Danny cursed and turned himself intangible. His neon eyes pierced through the haze and landed on the kneeling figure of Poindexter, who was beginning to glow a soft hue of red, steadily at first, but quickly gaining power with each passing second.

Danny flew closer in hope of a more accurate aim. With only about two feet between him and Poindexter, Danny fired up the thermos and pointed it at the ghost. Poindexter's eyes snapped open at the high whine of the thermos. His last breath was a scream as the ghost was stretched and pulled into the turquoise light. Danny capped the thermos, and the earthquake gradually faded into nothing but fearful whispers of the remnant students and the soft trickle of falling debris. Those whispering students disappeared one by one, turning into little wisps of smoke before vanishing entirely.

He didn't need to stick around and wait for the other ghostly students to disappear. They would do that on their own, now that Poindexter was gone. He sucked in a deep breath, watching a wide-eyed girl with a ponytail dissipate into mist. The school was a mess, the walls riddled with cracks, the floor littered with the contents of lockers. Most of the lockers were caved in, or at least dented. All but old lucky number 724. Danny headed towards it, tucking the thermos on his back belt loop and already lamenting over all the explaining he would have to go over with Sam and Tucker.

He faded into the mirror and left Poindexter's world for what he hoped was forever.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey, guys! I'm not dead! Well, almost. I got into a really bad car accident, but I'm okay now. What a way to start the summer, right? Sorry I've been a little behind, but I promise I _will_ update, even if it takes a little while. But as long as you guys read it, I will write it. Because I love writing, I love this show and its characters, but I love you guys most of all. I've never felt more inspired than when I get a new favorite, follow, or sweet review. Thank you for being patient with me.**

* * *

"You've got a lot of explaining to do."

That voice couldn't be talking to her, could it? She hadn't done anything wrong, as far as she could remember. That wasn't saying much, considering she couldn't remember anything at the moment, but that voice did sound awfully familiar.

"I know."

She knew that voice too, from one of the deep recesses of her memory. Something cold brushed her forehead and then sat there. Her nose tickled, but she couldn't find the strength to move her arm and scratch it. She tried to, but that made everything hurt. A hand gently brushed across nose, and the tickling stopped, but her whole body still ached.

"Sam is gonna need to know, too."

There was that voice again, the first one that spoke. Tired, but calm, a voice that reminded her of long nights in front of the computer, battling away on the newest games. She always won, of course, because Tucker was good, but not good enough to beat her. The name battered around her brain like the clash of a gong. How could she forget?

 _"Tucker.."_ Her lips failed to repeat the name that her mind had discovered. She could feel them twitch, but nothing but Tucker's voice reached her ears.

"That's why we're patiently waiting for her to wake up."

The second voice. She knew that one too, remembering it with a swirl of emotions and the sudden thought of bright blue eyes. A crackling squeak escaped her chapped lips.

"Was that her?" Tucker.

""I think she's waking up. Finally."

Sam tried again. "Da..nny?"

"Sam!" The two boys cried at once. Sam felt like she had to break through a wall of cement to peel open her eyelids, but eventually they came up, giving her a blurry view of two faces staring down at her. "H..ey..guys." Her voice cracked with each syllable. She might have laughed if her throat wasn't as dry as the Sahara.

"How're you feeling?" She saw a blurry image of Danny's lips moving, seemingly slower than the words were coming out, like video game lag.

"Eh." was all she could manage. Half of his face was blotted out by a black line. She let out a hiccupy gasp as that same tickle returned to her nose.

"Your hair never wants to stay put." A pale hand appeared to brush the black strand away. Danny laughed, the tired chuckle of a long day. She wanted to see him, to see if his face was as tired as that laugh. Sam blinked, squeezing her eyes shut for a few long seconds before forcing them open again, and the blurriness began to fade. Two more blinks carried the rest of the smudges away, and Sam found herself staring into clear blue eyes. She definitely remembered those.

Bracing her arms behind her, Sam propped herself up on her palms, only to fall back down when a rush of pain hit her head. An ocean raged in the confines of her skull, battering her brain in fervent, angry waves. Danny and Tucker caught her before she could hit her head and do any more damage than she already had.

"Easy, Sam." Tucker's calm voice lulled her eyes closed again. "Your body is under a lot of stress right now. It's gonna take a little bit for you to recover from that. Getting possessed by one ghost is enough, but _two_ -"

"Tucker!" Danny hissed.

"Yeah." Sam murmured. "Ghosts..." That struck the gong of memory, too. Something about ghosts. But who had gotten possessed? Obviously not one of them, because they seemed okay. And there's no way it could be...wait- _she_ was the one with the raging headache, who couldn't even sit up. They couldn't mean... " _Me_?" she croaked. A cough bubbled in her throat, and she forced it down. "two ghosts...possessed.." she heaved a heavy sigh as another name broke through the fog in her head. "Poindexter?"

Sam struggled again to sit up, ignoring Tucker's warning cries. Her arms shook. The tiles of the school felt like fire under her palms.

"No," Danny said quietly, holding her shoulders to keep the girl steady. "Two ghosts possessed _you_. But Poindexter was one of them."

"That's what I meant." Sam rolled her eyes. Even that small movement made her stomach churn. "Poindexter," she gulped, making her dry throat burn even more. If they were just sitting there, she knew the ghost must be gone already, but that didn't stop her mind from conjuring the shadows into human figures. Black silhouettes with evil, glowing eyes. "Where is he?"

"He's taken care of." Danny tapped the metal thermos at his waist, giving her a gentle smile. "No worries, madam."

"He..he possessed me?" Sam lowered herself back to the ground with a sigh. Her trembling arms couldn't hold her up for any longer.

"Yeah, for a while."

Her purple lips (though half of the lipstick had been rubbed off already) tilted into a frown. That explained why she was lying on the dirty tile floor, trembling like a newborn kitten. But something still bugged her, an itch in the back of her mind. Tucker had said something that had taken her back. Something about ghosts and possessions, and-oh. _Oh_.

"There were _two_ ghosts?" She nearly shouted, despite the protests from the sand dunes scratching at her throat. She thought she saw Danny wince, but maybe it was just her imagination. Or maybe she had shouted a little too loud.

"Well, you see.." Danny rubbed the back of his neck , dodging her eyes the whole time. "I...I'm, well, I guess..that I'm the.. other ghost."

Sam braced her hands behind her back, ignoring the trembling in her very bones, and raised her head to watch him with squinted eyes. And to tell him to stop joking around when she had a serious question. This might be the everyday for him, but for _her_ , being possessed was kind of a big deal.

"Danny, you jackass. Can you please be serious for once?" His cheeks glowed pink, and Tucker coughed as a poor disguise to hide a laugh. She would slap them both, if her hands weren't being used to hold her up. "I'm kind of freaking out right now, and you two are making it worse!"

"Sorry." Tucker chuckled, tilting up his glasses to wipe his eyes. He didn't look sorry at all.

"Sam, calm down," Danny said exactly the thing you _don't_ want to say to an angry girl, "I know it doesn't make sense, but just-just hear me out, okay?" Sam tucked her legs underneath her, lips falling into a doubtful frown.

"Okay." Sam said the word slowly, deliberately. He looked sincere enough, so she put a leash on her tongue for the time being. She rested her weight on her elbows while Danny fumbled for his words, probably not expecting that he would get that far.

"I've never done this before," Danny mumbled, running his hand through his mess of black hair. "Jazz just kind of, I don't know, found out, I guess. But I've never told anyone myself."

"Told anyone what?" Sam asked, her eyebrows quirking up. She rubbed the feeling back into her hands, gone numb long ago from the pins and needles racing through them.

"Dude, why don't you just show her?" Tucker piped up. "You're not very good at explaining things." Sam snorted a laugh that made her head rage.

"Okay." Danny said. He nodded, gulped, and nodded a second time. "Okay, I'll just show you, then." But he didn't move. It took a jab from Tucker's elbow to finally get Danny up and on his feet.

"Close your eyes." Danny said. Her eyes were narrowed to slits already, but open enough to read the nervousness written across his face.

"Why-" she started, before a blinding light answered her question. Sam sucked in a gasp of breath, and cold air filled her lungs as her hand shot up to cover her eyes. She forgot that she needed that hand to keep her stable, and she fell back against the ground when her other hand gave out.

A few seconds past, and the light faded as quickly as it sprung to life. It took Sam a few more seconds to blink the white poka-dots out of her vision. When her eyes had finally adjusted, she didn't believe them. Danny was.. _gone_!

"Danny?" Sam nearly shrieked. She scrambled to her feet, almost toppling back to the ground. She was still stumbling to find her balance when two silver gloved hands appeared around her shoulders, keeping Sam's shaky legs planted to the ground.

"This way." Danny's voice said, but it was those silver hands that turned her around to see glowing green eyes instead of blue ones. Wild, white hair instead of messy black locks.

"Phantom?" she gasped. She tried to take a step back, not out of fear, just out of the pure shock of having a superhero within kissing distance. But he held her tightly by the shoulders.

"Yeah, but also-"

" _Danny_?!" that was _definitely_ Danny's voice. And hadn't he been there just a second ago? Before that crazy bright light nearly blinded her for life?

"In the ghostly flesh." his lips cracked a smile. A nervous one, but still a smile.

Sam felt like she should say something, or scream, but her lips couldn't seem to form coherent words. She stuttered in a language that couldn't even be classified as English, until even those nonsense words failed her, and she was left in shocked silence.

"I know this is weird, but..just bear with me for a second, okay?" Danny slowly pulled his hands from her shoulders and held them up in a gesture of innocence. She could only nod mutely as his feet began to hover an inch or two off the ground. "I'm still Danny, just with... cooler hair."

Sam just blinked, and then forced her head to nod.

How did this happen? Was what she wanted to say, but the only thing that came out was a stuttered, "H- _how_?"

Danny chewed his bottom lip, his eyes staring at something far past them, or nothing at all. He had been expecting this question, she was sure, but it still fell on him like an anchor. His shoulders dropped, and that figurative anchor dragged his feet back down to the cold tiles of the empty school. There, feet planted to the ground and chin lowered to the chest, Danny finally began to speak in a quiet, distant voice."Two years ago, you guys remember when my...my parents," he said the word softly, as if it still hurt to think of them, "were building that portal to try to find ghosts?" Sam winced, and Tucker stared at his shoes. Sam nodded, in lieu of words.

"It didn't work at first. They thought it was busted, but I thought that maybe...maybe there were just some wires loose. On the inside." his jaw clenched, and Sam almost expected him to give up and walk away right then, but he didn't. He wet his lips and continued, in a voice even softer than it was before. "So I went inside when my parents were going over the calculations and...there was a switch on the inside that they missed. And I..." Strands of ebony hair covered his face as he let out a soft chuckle.

"I thought they unplugged it, but I wasn't smart enough to check. I should have, but..but I didn't." Sam felt tears prick at her eyes from the bitterness in his voice. "I turned the switch and it, you know." He curled his hands into two fists, and then tore them apart with fingers splayed. Sam remembered him using that same gesture when he was barely six years old, telling her how popcorn was made. How the kernel just _explodes._ She never thought the same gesture could be used to explain what had happened that day two years ago. "You remember, right?" Danny asked, and Sam could only bob her head. Of course she remembered. How could she forget, when for months and months, every time she closed her eyes, she could see it, hear it. Even now.

 _Sirens. Screams. She saw the smoke clouding over the beautiful blue skies of Amity from her own house. Black smoke billowing over the same part of town that Danny's house was in. She tore out the front door of her house, not even bothering to put on shoes. It was that explainable panic that propelled her through the streets, which grew more and more crowded with awestruck spectators by the second. That dread that consumes you, even before you know that's what it is. Before you even know what's happening. More screams, more sirens._

"I don't remember much after that, except for pain." Danny said, head tilted up to the sky. "A lot of pain. And bright lights." a grim smile wavered on his lips. "I thoughts I was dead. I guess I was, just not...completely."

 _She knew the way to Danny's house. She could run there with her eyes closed, if she wanted to. And part of her did, so that she could block out the horrified, gaping faces of the people around her as they stood staring at that smothering black cloud hanging over their heads. Over Danny's house. But Sam kept her eyes open so that she could jump over the piles of dropped groceries from the people who had forgotten they were holding them when that_ boom _filled the air, leap over those toys that the children dropped when they had started to cry. They must have felt it too, that sense of doom that pushed Sam to run faster and faster through the streets that were quickly being covered up by a thin layer of ash._

"I don't remember the explosion," Danny narrowed his shining eyes at a long buried memory. "All I saw was...green. A white flash, a-and then bright green everywhere." Danny shook his head. Even the untameable strands of his raven hair seemed to droop.

 _Ash swirled around her, sticking to her wet lips._ _She couldn't see anything through the black cloud that had fallen into the streets. But she knew she was getting close when she felt the shards digging into her feet, glass shearing the tender flesh on her toes. But even that didn't stop her._

 _"Danny!" she screamed. The black cloud filled her mouth and throat, choking her. She coughed, but kept running. There were screams behind her, hands reaching out to grab her, but they weren't fast enough. Voices yelled for her to stop, to not go any closer, but those voices weren't what brought her bloody feet to a screaming halt. Nor was it the black smoke, quickly turning to gray, or the hands that tugged her back. It was that house that once stood proud and tall, now crumbled to a pile of charred debris before her._

"It destroyed the whole house. The portal kept me safe, I guess, but my parents..." tears welled in Sam's eyes. Her throat burned the same way it had that day, when the ash that used to be Danny's home filled her mouth and clouded her lungs. "there was nothing to protect them from the rubble, and when the house fell.." his voice cracked. Tears leaked from the corners of his brilliant green eyes, leaving shiny trails down his cheeks.

 _"Danny!" Sam screamed. Her feet set off running again, towards that smoldering pile of ash and brick. "Dan-"_

 _"Don't try it, little one." a voice as gruff as the arms that held her back said. "Come on!" Those arms dragged her back. Sam thrashed, her fingers clawing and scratching at whatever they could find. Her feet battled between kicking at nothing and burying her heels into the ground. Burning glass ripped the skin from her heels, until her captor wrapped an arm below her knees and carried her like a new bride._

 _"Where is he?" Sam screamed, beating her fist against the yellow and red suit of the Amity Firefighter. The tears burned as they poured from her eyes, mingling with the black ash that coated her face. "Where is he? Danny? DANNY!"_

 _"I'm sorry, sweetheart." that gruff voice said gently. He pulled her closer to his chest, and pressed a mask against her face, saying something about smoke. But Sam didn't care._

 _"DANNY!" she howled again, her voice muffled by the mask. She never stopped screaming, never stopped thrashing against the strong arms of the fireman, even after he had closed the doors of the ambulance behind her. She screamed until her coughs took over, and then she only sobbed as the ambulance took her away._

"I woke up in Vlad's house, and he's been taking care of me since then. I don't remember the hospital at all, but he told me I was there for a while."

"Two weeks." Tucker said quietly. Tears trailed down his cheeks too, rolling down to his chin and then falling to his shoes. "Sam snuck out of her room, and we went to find you. They wouldn't let us in."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Danny." Sam murmured. She reached a trembling hand out to him, and wrapped her fingers around his gloved hand. Her fingertips ran over the silver latex, and she wondered how much pain he had to bear to wear those gloves.

"But it _is_ my fault, Sam!" his hand clenched under her fingers. "I wanted to tell you," He rasped, eyes shining a glassy blue. "I really did, I just... I _couldn't_."

"Danny.." Sam squeezed his hands. She pleaded with her brain to think of something to say, but his broken eyes, like shattered sapphires, drained the life out of her. Sam was never one to be speechless, but the dread had crawled up to her throat and squeezed it in a death grip.

"It's my fault that you guys have to dodge ghosts everyday. That you guys can't step out of your houses at night because you'll be attacked. That you have a freaking dead kid trying to attack you because you stood up for yourself." Danny dropped her hands, looking at them guiltily. His face turned away from her, but she could still see the glittering trails of his tears in the moonlight. "You should hate me for that."

"That has nothing to do with you!" Tucker argued, taking a step towards him, but Danny backed away.

"Where do you think they're coming from?" he asked, and Tucker fell back. No one really knew why the ghosts had suddenly invaded Amity. There were rumors that the Fentons were the ones keeping them away, and now that they were.. _gone_ , the ghosts had free reign, but... "The portal worked, and now it's spilling out ghosts left and right. And I can't stop it." Danny pulled the thermos from his belt loop. He ran his hands over the dented, scarred surface. His distorted reflection stared back at him from the silver shine of metal. "That's why I do this. I'm not a hero," he spat. The hand free of the thermos curled into a fist. "I'm just cleaning up my own mess."

It made sense, in a twisted way. Why Mr. Masters had bought that destroyed piece of land where the Fenton Works once towered. Why he had never cleared away the rubble. Why Phantom had always fought with all he had, and never accepted any thanks for all the good he did. How could she have not seen it sooner?

Moonlight streamed through a shattered window and illuminated Danny's face in a pale glow. It made his eyes glisten silver when he looked at them, sucking in a shallow breath.

"I didn't want you guys to get hurt from my mistakes. I already killed my parents, I can't lose you guys too. It would be better if you just...stayed away."

Danny," Sam shook her head, shaking off the tear drops on her cheeks that glittered in the silver moonlight. "you don't have to throw your whole life away after one mistake. We're supposed to help each other through mistakes, and.."

"Your _mistakes_ don't kill your parents, or turn your city into the most dangerous place in America, or turn yourself into some half ghost... _freak_!" Danny dropped his head against a locker with a soft bang. Sam stepped back, tucking her outstretched hand back to her chest.

"It was better if you hated me," he whispered. Sam winced, feeling a deep blush heat up her face. Her eyes dropped to the pieces of broken glass on the floor. She had never felt like such an idiot. How she had paraded around, calling _him_ the terrible friend, when really...she bit her lip until it blossomed with beads of red. She deserved that sting of pain, and a lot more.

"Because then you wouldn't have to know what I did. I didn't want you to know that _I'm_ the one who let ghosts destroy this city, that I'm the reason my parents are dead, and mostly because I don't want to be the reason that you end up dead."

Sam watched him in silence, paralyzed in place, until Tucker stepped up, placing his hands on Danny's face and turning it so that Danny's neon green eyes were forced to meet his seafoam ones. "Sorry, Danny, but that's not going to work out, cause I _don't_ hate you, and deep down in her cold little heart, I know Sam doesn't hate you either, even though she tries to pretend that she does." the corners of his lips uplifted into a tiny, tightlipped smile. "We're cool with Danny Fenton the Ghost Hunter, so why would Danny Phantom be any different?"

Sam nodded quickly, wiping the blood from her lips before Danny could see. She was still so overwhelmed, and didn't know what to say. Didn't know the _right_ thing to say. Danny just stared, watching her with those spring green eyes, so full of misery. So easily now, she could see those green eyes being blue instead.

"You're still the Danny we used to run around causing trouble with. Just with.. cooler hair." A crackle of laughter broke past the red smudges on her purple lips, and then slowly, a timid, shaky smile grew on Danny's slightly glowing face. It was a start, at least.

"It is pretty cool, isn't it?" Danny said quietly, reaching up to twirl a white strand around his finger. Tucker nodded, his grin widening as a laugh burst from his lips. He pulled Danny into a hug, not a one armed boy hug, but a real hug. Danny's arms flailed for a bit before finding their way around Tucker. Sam wished she had a camera.

The tears had dried on Sam's face by the time they let go, and Danny looked to her with wide, careful eyes. She stepped closer, ignoring the crunch of glass under her combat boots. She tried to speak, to say something along the lines of "I'm sorry for being a horrible friend, and an idiot, and an oblivious little brat," but she was never very good with apologies. There wasn't anything to say that could make up for what she did, anyway. No words could fix that two years of broken hearts between them. But actions were supposed to speak louder than words, and she hoped that would be the same case here.

She had to stand on her toes to reach her arms around his neck. And even then, the top of her head barely slid past his ear. He stumbled back a few steps when she collided with him, perhaps putting more force into the hug than was necessary. But he regained his balance quickly, and Sam felt a rush of relief when she felt his arms pull her close.

"When did you get so damn tall?" she joked, craning her neck to whisper in his ear. Danny laughed softly, causing a burst of warm breath to brush against her neck.

"I think you just got shorter." She could practically _feel t_ hat little grin on his face, and the thought of it made her want to cry. But she laughed instead.

"Careful, Danny." she warned, a smile warming her own face. "My knee could do a lot of damage at this angle."

He chuckled nervously, and Sam hugged him tighter.

"I'm sorry for being such a snob, Danny." she murmured softly. "I just...when you stopped talking to us, I didn't know what to do. It just became easier to blame you than to blame myself. I shouldn't have been-"

"It's okay, Sam." he lowered his head, his forehead touching hers. "I thought it was better that way." If only he had told her, maybe things would have been different. Not maybe. They _would have_ been different. She would never have been so stupid, so naive to think that he was the problem. Stupid. oblivious, heartless...she choked on a sob.

"It's not too late, right?" she asked, her voice muffled by his shirt. It reminded her of that day, when that smoke mask had muffled her cries. She hadn't stopped, though, even when she couldn't hear her own screams. "To make up for it?"

His nose brushed against hers when he shook his head. A teardrop fell onto her shirt. She didn't know whether it fell from his eyes or hers.

* * *

Vlad's mansion was even larger than Sam's family home, and that was saying something. Danny called for Vlad as soon as he stepped past the towering marble threshold, and Mr. Masters appeared seconds later, dressed in his usual midnight black suit and charcoal tie.

"Daniel, home so soon?"

"I had help this time." Danny said, tossing the thermos to the older man. His face had been scrubbed clean of the tear trails, the red rims of his eyes gone without a trace.

"Oh?" Masters raised his eyebrows at Sam and Tucker, and for a moment, Sam worried that he could still see the stains on her cheeks. The millionaire caught the thermos with ease, and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket.

"Sam and Tucker thought they should help, cause you know, Sam was the one being haunted and all that."

"I see," Vlad's eyes, only a shade or two lighter than Poindexter's, fell on Sam and stayed there. "how considerate." The edges of his mouth twitched into a thin smile.

"And we found this." Danny took the stairs two at a time, using that same speed that Sam had watched him fight a hundred aerial battles with, though she hadn't known that _he_ was the one she was watching that whole time. "I think you should look at it, for evidence, or whatever." He dropped his bag to the ground and unzipped it, carefully pulling out an oval shape covered in neon green netting. The glassy surface sparkled when Danny removed the ghost net, shooting out golden rays of the chandelier's reflection. The light danced in his eyes like sun sparks on the ocean.

"A mirror?" Vlad's gray eyebrows furrowed as he picked up the fragile piece and twisted it in different directions, eyes scanning over every angle.

"Well, yeah, but it's also a timeloop." Danny took the mirror from Vlad's hands and held it between them. "Poindexter created his own timeloop for Casper High back in the 50's. That's where he's been hiding this whole time."

"Extraordinary." Vlad mused. The chandelier light blazed like small fires in his eyes when he took the mirror back. He shifted it around in his hands so that the face of the mirror danced in the sparkles of light. Vlad smiled a leisurely grin at the mirror, though Sam couldn't tell whether he was smiling at the mirror itself or at his own reflection. She guessed it was a little of both. "Excellent work, once again, my boy." Vlad clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder, grinning at him even more than he had at his own reflection.

"He never fails to amaze me." He said it to Sam and Tucker, but his eyes never strayed from Danny's. "I knew he would be great the second I saw him. They always underestimated you, boy, but I knew your potential." Vlad ruffled Danny's hair, making the swirly black strands stand straight up into the air.

"Vlad, cut it out." Danny squirmed away from Vlad's hand, his cheeks the soft pink glow of embarrassment. "You're being creepy again."

"I'm doting, Daniel, there's a difference." He chuckled as Danny struggled to flatten his hair back to its normal, disheveled style. "And I so rarely have ears to listen."

"That's cause no one wants to hear it." Danny grumbled. He left his hair in the mess it was in, which, in Sam's opinion, wasn't too far off from what it usually looked like. The look fit him, though, and she couldn't imagine him with anything else. Vlad chuckled, because rich people never really laughed, (she would know) and only ruffled Danny's hair further. A gasp and a sigh of frustration, or something in between burst from Danny's frowning lips as he swatted at the hand.

"Ah, but they see it." Vlad said, his voice seeping with pride. "Especially when you lead the winners of this year's competition on their mission."

"Vlad-wait, _what_?" Danny gasped. "You want me to be the team leader?"

"Consider it training, Little Badger." Vlad smiled his thin lipped grin at Danny, gray eyes sparkling with pride. "For the future."

"When would I ever need that in my future?"

"Someday." Vlad said in a teasing way. It was the most playful Sam had ever seen the man. Not that she had the chance to see him a lot, but still. He didn't seem like the playful type, and by the incredulous expression on Danny's face, Sam guessed she was right. Vlad took the mirror under his arm, and with one last ruffle of Danny's already messy hair, the millionaire turned his back on the three gaping faces.

"Don't worry, Daniel," Vlad said over his shoulder. Sam saw the bulge of the thermos under his jacket when he turned, just slightly, to look at the boy standing on the stairs, his face still stuck in shock. She wondered what he would do with the ghost trapped inside that banged up soup thermos.

 _"Not your business anymore, Sam."_ She reminded herself. Still, she couldn't stop the shudder from spreading through her bones at even the thought of his name. _Poindexter._ She gulped, thinking of those furious gray eyes. She didn't care what Vlad did with him, as long as he stayed far away from her.

"A fighter, a leader-it's what you're meant to be." Vlad said, a fierce spark of pride igniting in his slate gray eyes. Sam couldn't remember anyone looking at her like that, like they really expected her to be somebody. It was sweet, but unnerving at the same time. Maybe it was because that proud smile looked almost...possessive. She watched his back until he disappeared, listened to the soft pad of Vlad Master's footsteps until they receded into the twisting halls of his mansion.

"Danny," Tucker said, breaking Sam from her trance. She hadn't noticed Danny descend the stairs until then, until she blinked and he was right there beside her. "you know what this means?"

"That I'm doomed?"

"No," Tucker grinned and slugged Danny in the shoulder. He didn't even flinch. "It means that you've gotta teach us how to fight so that we can win this thing."

"Tucker, that's actually a good idea." Sam said before Danny could object. "First time for everything, right?"

"Yeah-wait. What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Danny, you need a team that you can trust, and I want to crush Valerie into chocolate dust, so it's a win-win deal."

"I..I dunno, Sam." Danny mumbled, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Sam caught is hand before it got there and held it in hers.

"Danny, I know you don't like the thought of us being in danger, but we can take care of ourselves." She glanced to Tucker, who nodded his agreement, though his eyes still glared daggers at her from her earlier comment. "And what if Poindexter comes back and comes after me?"

"He won't." Danny said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Vlad puts them back in the Ghost Zone, and they don't come back."

"But what if he did? Or something else comes after me?" That seemed to strike a nerve. She could feel his hand tense under hers, fingers wiggling and curling into a fist. "I want to know how to defend myself if that happens, more than just what the school teaches." And more than that, she wanted to be there the next time Danny needed help. How many times had she seen Phantom struggling, with no one to give him a hand when he needed it? Her nails bit into the soft flesh of her left palm, remembering those times he had been shot, hit, tumbled from the sky. At least now, he wouldn't be alone. Not if she could help him.

"Please, Danny." Sam said, putting on her sweetest smile. It was hard to do, when the last thought that raced through her head was all the times she had seen him hurt. And she had never tried to help, because he was...well, a _superhero_. But he was a boy, too. She knew that now, and she would never, never forget. "At least give us a chance."

"C'mon, Danny." Tucker prodded, clasping his hands into pleading jumble of fingers. "Please?"

"Please?" Sam echoed.

"Alright." Danny caved. A sigh tumbled from his lips as they cheered. "But you have to _promise_ me you won't do anything risky."

"Says the reckless Inviso-bill vigilante." Sam smirked at his glare.

"Whatever," he mumbled, dragging a hand down his face. "But if it gets too dangerous.."

"We'll back off." Sam promised, though she already knew it was a promise she wouldn't be able to keep. "Deal?"

Danny stared at her outstretched hand, chewing his lip nervously. She held her breath as his shoulders slumped. He took her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers, and shook it.

"Deal."


	11. Chapter 11

"It's _so_ good to see you guys!" Star beamed at them, rising from her home's crimson sofa to grace each of them with a hug.

"You too," Danny answered for all of them. "How've you been?"

Star shrugged. "I'm out of the...um, _hospital_ now." Her eyes fell to her hands, gently folded in her lap. Even in the darkness that turned the bags under her eyes a burgundy purple, her usually lemon bright hair into old straw, Sam could see the soft pink blush of embarrassment on her cheeks. "or the psych ward, I guess."

"Good to be home?" Sam idly stirred the tea that Star's mom had brought them. She watched Star from under low lashes, wondering if she really was okay. If she would _ever_ be okay.

"No one's talking to themselves or banging their head against the wall." Her light eyes did a quick scan around the house to make sure it was true. "That's always a good thing." She lowered her eyes, wrinkling her nose at the warm steam that rose from her mug. The soft aroma of Jasmine wafted from it. "Nothing feels the same as it used to." Star murmured. "Everytime I see a shadow, or a feel some wind rush past me, I get so panicky, and..I, well, sometimes I feel like I really do belong back with the crazies."

"You're not crazy, Star." Sam's cup of tea thudded against the coffee table. "You never were. You were-"

"haunted." Star finished. Sam nodded, but Star didn't notice. Her eyes had fallen back onto her hands, chipped nails and pale skin. Sam hadn't noticed until now, that only spots of nail polish were left. Remnants of the girl that was _almost_ perfect. "I can't go back. Not with... _him_ around."

"That's why we're here." Tucker said, his blossoming grin showing through his voice. It sounded strange, out of place, like a tiny light in a room that hadn't been touched by sunlight it weeks. It was just strange enough to make Star look up from her lap, curiosity sparking in her eyes for the first time all day. Guarded, cautious curiosity, but it was better than the emptiness that had clouded her eyes for so long.

"We took care of Poindexter." Danny continued, after a nudge from Tucker's elbow. Star's eyes widened, lips parting with a faint gasp. "He's gone."

"Gone?" Star jerked up from her slouched position, spilling a few drops of tea in the process. The sunny drops splattered against the couch soundlessly and disappeared into the crimson fabric. A lopsided smile curved Danny's lips.

"Casper High is officially ghost free."

 _"Well,"_ Sam bit the inside if her cheek to fight against a grin. _"Mostly ghost-free."_ She thought, watching Danny through the corner of her eye.

"Are you sure?" Star's fingers wrapped around the handle of her cup tightly.

"Positive. We did it ourselves."

Star blinked, her mouth parting a little bit more.

"You guys helped, too?"

"Don't be _too_ surprised." Tucker grinned, flexing his muscles (or lack of). "We're talking about Tucker Foley, carnivore enthusiast, ghost-hunting extraordinaire. No ghost is gonna slip past these guns."

Sam snorted. "Says the guy who _cried_ the first time he saw a ghost."

Danny broke into laughter, a sound that Sam was getting more and more used to by the day. Another laughter mixed in with his-a quiet, bubbling sound. A laugh that Sam hadn't heard in a long time. Star's shoulder's shook, golden hair shaking and shimmering with them. One hand covered her mouth, but not enough to hide the soft edges of her lips, curved into a smile.

"Hey! I-I didn't cry!"

"You cried a little bit."

"C'mon, Sam," Tucker whined over the roar of three laughing voices. "Dash cried _way_ harder than I did."

Star's laughter grew even louder at that, until sparkling tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. The sight of them almost made Sam cry, too, remembering that the last time she had seen those glistening trails on Star's cheeks, they hadn't been made from laughter.

"Dash is lucky he's the quarterback, or he would have _never_ lived that down." Star said, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Paulina still teases him about it, but that's cause she's the only one that can get away with it." Star's eyes were rimmed in red, but they were brighter than Sam had ever seen, even before the accident. "Speaking of Dash, how is he? I haven't heard from him in forever."

"He's back in school now, but he still has a while to go before he can throw a football again." Tucker said, his smile fading a little at that. Star nodded. She took a long sip of tea. It was the first time she had raised the cup to her lips since she got it.

"Does he still think it was just a football accident that nearly took his eye out?"

"Maybe it was." Sam shrugged, toying with her own cup of tea. "Maybe that football got to him before Poindexter could." The others nodded, but Sam could tell by their averted eyes that none of them believed it. She didn't even believe it herself, but it was better than the alternative. As much as she couldn't stand Dash Baxter, she wouldn't wish the curse of Poindexter on anybody. Even him.

"Well, if you want to go back to school, you can now." Danny said, breaking the silence that had settled upon them. "Not that anyone would actually _want_ to go to school, but.." He shrugged, and Star laughed softly, agreeing with a bob of her head.

"I will soon, just... not right away." She smiled gently and stirred her tea with a spoon. "Now that I know he's gone, maybe the nightmares will go away. And then I can actually get enough sleep to wake up in the morning."

"Nightmares?" Danny asked, the corners of his mouth drooping in a frown.

"Yeah," Star smiled sheepishly. "I guess kids aren't the only ones that can be scared of the dark."

 _"There's plenty to be scared of."_ Sam thought, but she didn't voice it. There was no use saying what they all knew too well.

Danny set his mug on the table, long ago drained of all its contents, and rose from the leather recliner.

"Well, Star, if there's anything else we could do for you-"  
"I'll make sure to call." the side of Star's mouth slid into a half-hearted smile. "Though you guys have already done so much. I don't think I could ever really thank you, especially after I was so..so _awful_ to you guys." Her eyes dropped from their faces shamefully, favoring the honey-colored tea instead.

"Forgive and forget." Sam said, rising next to Danny and Tucker. And if they could all forgive her, maybe...Sam glanced at Danny as he offered Star his hand to help her up...maybe he could forgive her, too. She hoped so.

Tucker's feet were the only ones that seemed to make a sound as Star walked them to the door and hugged each of them goodbye. Her arms lingered around Sam, holding her close, until after the boys had passed under the threshold.

"Sam, before you go, could we, um, talk for a minute?" Star asked, her arms dropping back to her sides. Sam raised her eyebrows, a gesture she couldn't stop if she wanted to, but didn't object.

"Sure," She nodded, then poked her head out the door. "I'll meet you guys in the car, okay?" The boys nodded, and Sam closed the door behind her. She guessed that whatever Star had to say wasn't for them. But she had been best friends with boys all her life, and if it was girl talk Star wanted, Sam wasn't sure she could be of much assistance in that department. But she could at least try.

"You and Danny seem to be getting along okay."

Sam shrugged lightly, ignoring the sigh building up in her chest. She had been through just enough girl talks with her mother to know where this was headed. To a sub department that she was even less comfortable with. "Yeah, we've...cleared up some misunderstandings. We're fine now."

"Just fine?"  
"What are you getting at, Star?"

"I don't know, I'm just seeing some chemistry, that's all."

"Star.." Sam groaned.

"I'm sorry," the girl held her hands up in a gesture of peace. "You can't blame me for wanting to know. It's boring here, all by myself. And now I barely talk to anybody but you guys and Valerie." The excitement flickered out of her eyes like the flame blown out of a candle. Sam hated how awful that made her feel.

"What about Paulina?"

Star stared down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes against the cold tile. "She was talking to me at first, just to complain about you shoving a frog down her shirt," a faint smile traced her lips, "funny stuff, by the way." Sam snorted.

 _"Yeah. Hilarious."_

"But after she found out I was in the..the _loony bin_ ," Star shrugged weakly. "No one wants to be friends with a nut. Especially someone as popular as Paulina. She has a reputation to keep up."

"Not much of one." Sam muttered, rolling her eyes at the mere thought of the beauty queen. "Who needs friends like that anyway?"

"Yeah, I said the same thing." Star nodded, though her eyes never rose from the floor. A piece of golden hair fell in front of her eyes. She didn't try to put it back. "Valerie came to see me the other day, and she said that you were joining the competition this year. Is that true?"

Sam bobbed her head in response. "Don't tell her, but Danny has been helping us train. We're actually headed to practice right after this."

Star's eyes widened, her face curving into a smile.

"Progress."  
"Don't start."

Star rolled her eyes, her smile never faltering.

"Fine, I won't keep you from your, um, _practice_ any longer." Star held the door open for her. If Star had been anyone else, Sam would have been more than happy to wipe that cheeky grin off her face, but that grin was a rare sight lately, and she didn't like the thought of it going away. Even if it was at her expense. "As long as you remember to call me later. I might keep you captive if Danny and Tucker weren't waiting, but in exchange for me letting you go, I'll need a lot more details over the phone."

Sam sighed at the thought, but couldn't help feel a little wave of relief at the same time.

" _Anything that will get her mind off Poindexter is worth a little humiliation from me. Not that I'm admitting anything..."_

"Okay, Star."

The door slid closed until it was just a crack behind her. A sliver of Star's face appeared from the slot.

"You know, Sam, if I can change," her grin faded into a gentle smile, "then Danny can too." Sam just nodded. Her throat felt painfully tight. "Oh, and one more thing," Star added, sliding the door open a little bit more. "Just remember that I get to be the first one to say 'I-told-you-so' when it finally happens, okay?"

She didn't wait for Sam's response before the door squealed shut. Sam sighed and shook her head, slowing making her way to the car.

 _"Whatever makes her feel better."_

Without Danny's guidance, Sam would have been lost after the second turn in Vlad's twisting house.

She had always thought that her house was hard to navigate, but Vlad's mansion had even the Manson home beat. Sam bit her lip, looking over her shoulder and racking her brain to remember how many turns it would take to lead her back to the front door. _"Was it five lefts and three rights? Or four lefts and six rights?"_

"Almost there." Danny said, glancing at them over his shoulder. He grinned at their lost faces. "I know, it's confusing. My first month here, I got so lost that Vlad had to assemble a search party to find me."

"Seriously?" Sam laughed.

"Seriously. I was just trying to find the bathroom, which, by the way, there are eighteen bathrooms in this estate and I couldn't manage to find even one of them."

"You always did have a horrible sense of direction." Tucker pointed out.

"Still do. I still get lost in this house. It's been two years and I only know about half of the rooms."

Danny made another left ( _would that be six lefts or four lefts?)_ and stopped at a white painted door that stood at least double their height.

"Here it is." he announced, giving the towering door a gentle push. It slid past the hinges soundlessly, opening up to a huge, arena like clearing. Sam's jaw dropped, eyebrows shooting high into her messy bangs. Even if Vlad was a billionaire, the sight was still impressive.

One wall was covered in weapons of all sizes, each one with the name _**FENTON**_ painted somewhere on the side. They glittered dangerously in the light, their freshly polished faces glistening silver. The opposing wall was adorned with varying targets, some in the shape of ghosts, small and large, and others the faces of innocent humans. Sam recognized a few of those faces, both of citizens of Amity and a few of the more common ghosts that often reappeared in the city. Sam blushed as she saw her face on one of the targets, but while the others were dotted in holes and scorch marks, her face was perfectly pristine. Not a single mark marred her face.

"If you want to train," Danny said, stepping into the room and holding the door open for them, "then this is the place to do it."

"Oh, _sweet_!" Tucker gasped. He rushed past them and turned in circles, trying to see everything at once. Sam chuckled and followed him in. It was _massive_.

"This is... _amazing_." Sam murmured, studying the faces on the wall. She wondered how often he had to replace them. How many he had already replaced in the years he had trained day after day. The door swung shut as Danny followed them in and came to a halt next to Sam. She glanced at him with a grin.

"I volunteer Tucker as the moving target." Sam joked, just loud enough for Danny to hear. Tucker probably could have heard it, too, if he wasn't too fascinated with the targets and gadgets to listen.

Danny laughed, making his way over the the weapons rack. He pulled out three ectoguns and passed two of them to Sam and Tucker. Sam twisted the weapon in her hands, tracing her finger over the black ink of Danny's surname. It brought her back to school practice, and the replica gun that sported the same name. The guns were almost identical, aside from Danny's being much newer and cleaner. The name was bold and clear, instead of faded and scratched away like her old gun. Her gut twisted in guilt. She used to hate looking at that name everyday. Staring at the black ink now, it only brought a smile to her lips.

"Thanks for the offer, Sam, but these targets move on their own."

She glanced up at Danny just in time to see him press his palm against a little green button on the wall. Sam was about to tell him to stop joking around, or else _he_ would be the target, when the faces on the wall.. _.moved_. Sam yelped as a green blur raced towards her, forcing Sam to drop to her belly to avoid being smacked in the face.

"Did I mention they come off the walls?" Danny called over the whir of mechanical arms springing from the wall, making the targets dance in the air.

"NO!" Sam and Tucker shouted, both diving for cover from incoming ghouls. Sam gaped at a blue face staring down at her. Before she could lift her gun, the target exploded into shards of blue. Sam covered her face as the pieces rained down on her. One eye peeked from behind her hands and glared at Danny. Sam clambered to her feet and took aim at one of the slower moving targets. One eye squeezed shut as her dominant eye focused on the target. It took her two shots before it exploded in green sparks and plastic shards. She didn't have time to celebrate. Sam found herself surrounded by five more as soon as the first one went down.

"Maybe we should start with more basic training." Danny decided, hitting that same green button on the wall. The targets jerked to a halt before the mechanical arms connected to them slowly pulled the targets back against wall. "How about stationary targets?"

Tucker crawled up from his knees and nodded. The hand not desperately clutching the handle of his gun reached up to put his glasses back into place.

"Stationary. That sounds easier." Tucker wheezed. "I'm just a little out of practice."

Sam chuckled. "Just a little."

"Don't feel bad, Tucker. I was just as bad when I started." Danny smiled. "Two years of practice really does help."

"Too bad we don't have two years." Sam muttered. "If we're gonna make it into the competition, we better get to work." Sam felt a strange giddiness blossom in her chest. For some reason, blasting ghostly targets to smithereens really made her excited.

 _"Must be a goth thing."_ She smiled to herself. Through the corner of her eye, Sam glanced over at Tucker, whose eyes were focused into narrow slits as Danny instructed him on shooting techniques and such. Techniques that Tucker would have already known, had he spent more time paying attention in Ghost Hunting 101 rather than playing mindless games on his PDA. Sam grinned and took aim at the targets. One in particular caught her eye, and she took special care to blow it into bits.

"Nice shot, Sam, but you're supposed to hit the ghosts, not the citizens." Danny furrowed his brow at the falling bits of a chocolate skinned face.

"I know." Sam smirked. Danny frowned at the dangerous smile playing on her lips. A little piece of Valerie's fluttered to Sam's feet. She grinned down at the piece, showing off half of a smiling, emerald eye.

 _"Just wait Valerie,"_ the corners of Sam's lips turned up in a smile. _"We'll see who's number 2."_

* * *

Sam slid into the far end of the booth by the window, while Tucker stretched over the booth opposite to her with a groan.

"I can't even feel my legs." He groaned, disappearing behind the table as he sprawled across the cushion of the Nasty Burger seats. Sam snorted. Honestly, though, She couldn't blame him, considering her limbs protested with the same kind of ache. She could still feel the blood pulsing in her legs, despite having left the practice room a good thirty minutes ago.

Danny slid into the booth next to her, bearing two trays of burgers, fries, drinks, and of course, a salad.

"A salad for Sam," he said, sliding the dish to her, "three cheeseburgers for Tucker, and two for me." Tucker took an entire tray for himself, grinning and licking his lips at the same monstrosities that Sam sneered at. Half of a burger disappeared into his mouth before Sam could even blink.

"Oh, cheeseburger, my faithful and tasty friend." He said, giving Sam a full view of the food still in his mouth. She gagged and blocked out the image with the sight of bright green leaves and tomatoes as red as Rudolph's nose.

"So did you guys hear that there's another Dead Teacher movie coming out?" Danny asked, pulling the paper wrapping off his burger.

" _Double_ the gore, _triple_ the action!" Tucker practically bounced in his seat. "Sam got tickets to see it opening night." His eyes widened, and Sam could almost imagine a lightbulb appearing over his head. "Dude, you should totally come with us." His smile grew to reach the corner of his glasses. "Sam, think you could get another ticket for Danny?"

"Sure thing." Sam grinned-as much as she could with a tomato between her teeth. "Can you take a few hours break from butt-kicking to see some Dead Teacher action?"

" _Triple_ the action!" Tucker added. Danny nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.

"That would be awesome. I haven't seen a movie since..." he frowned, eyebrows scrunching in thought. "Well, since the last Dead Teacher movie came out. I went to see it with you guys, remember?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, chuckling at the memory. "Tucker spilled soda all over me."

"You can't blame me," Tucker took another monstrous bite of his burger. "It was a jump-scare."

Danny smiled down at his burger, a smile that only pulled the very corners of his lips into a curve. Sam remembered when Danny was famous for his smiles. She used to read about characters in books, whose smiles would light up their entire face, but she never understood that until she met Danny. And then those characters had come to life-bright, glittering eyes, a face that seemed to glow like it was bathed in sunlight. But that was a long time ago. Her mouth went dry at the thought. Someday, she hoped he would learn how to smile again.

"Was that really the last time you saw a movie?" Sam asked, forcing her attention back to the present. Danny shrugged, toying with the straw in his drink.

"Yeah. I don't have much free time anymore, and Jazz doesn't like the same movies I do, and movies aren't really fun to see alone, you know?"

Sam's face burned with guilt.

"That makes sense."

Danny was just raising his soda to his lips when a curling blue wisp darted out. He shivered and scowled, while Sam's brow scrunched in concern and Tucker went on eating his burger, oblivious to the sight. She didn't have time to ask what had happened. The Nasty Burger erupted into screams.

 _"What the hell?"_

Wide-eyed and heavy breathing pedestrians burst through the door, some carrying crying children, and others just children themselves.

"Ghost?" Tucker asked, dropping his burger back onto the tray with a _plop_.

 _"In this city, what else could it be?"_ Sam internally groaned, scanning the skies outside the window. Beside her, Danny began shuffling in his bag.

"Thermos, okay.." more shuffling and muttered curses. "Where's my gun?"

"You left it in the practice room." Sam whispered to his hunched form.

"Damn.." he pushed the bag from his lap. The restaurant was too loud to hear it fall against the ground. "I'll have to do this Phantom style, then."

"Danny..." Sam felt a strange mixture of fear and anticipation swirl in her stomach. This wouldn't be the _first_ time she had seen Danny fight in his Phantom form, but it was the first time that she knew it was actually him up there in the sky. Her Danny. A boy. A superhero, too, but still just a... a _boy_.

"Yeah?"  
"Um," she blushed, not knowing how to put her thoughts into words without being creepy. Or over protective. "Just, uh, be careful, okay?" Danny tilted his head in that curious way of his, eyebrows scrunched together.

"Okay." he said, nodding. "I'll try."

Sam bit her tongue, resisting the urge to slap herself in the face as Danny disappeared into the crowd. _"Be careful?"_ She felt her face grow hot. _"Is_ that _the best I can come up with?"_

The screech of tires slamming on their brakes saved Sam from her thoughts. She shot to her feet, pushing her way to the window as the revving of an engine ripped through the air. The patrons stuffed into the restaurant collapsed into a frenzy. A few seconds later, Sam understood why.

By some paranormal act of gravity defiance, a motorcyclist was driving straight up the side of a building. Terrified faces reflected in the windows as the wheels spun past, leaving tar-like burn marks on the already faded paint. An inky shadow danced under the wheels, darting from window to window. Glass rained down in luminescent splinters as windows were shattered one by one, whether it by be the growling tires of the motorcycle, or by the shadow's cruel entertainment.

The shadow seeped into a window even faster than the motorcycle dreamed to move, and returned seconds later with jewelry piling over his midnight claws. Sam had seen ghosts enter her world for fun, for chaos, but never to just steal jewelry. Most of it seemed to be from a woman's jewelry chest, but she was no expert. Sam vaguely wondered what use an old lady's jewelry could be for a ghost. It dropped the loot onto the back of his master's motorcycle and went for another round. Right to a window that held the wide-eyed expression of a little girl, barely tall enough for her head to peek over the windowsill.

 _"Move!"_ Sam begged the girl to hear her, but she remained locked in place as the shadow raced towards her, her dainty face reflecting the same terror that was plastered on Sam's face. Sam squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body tensing, listening for the sound of shattered glass and screams. But another sound filled the Nasty Burger, a sound that Sam definitely didn't expect.

The fast food joint broke out in cheers and sighs of relief, Tucker being a main contributor to the cheers. Sam peeked one eye open cautiously, then the other as her own sigh added to the relief. The biker and his bike were tumbling through the open air, smoking from a charred headlight and a blown tire. Sam could guess who was responsible for that.

The bike crashed to the ground, crumbling to pieces, but the shadow didn't go with it. Hissing and gnashing it's razor teeth, the Shadow thrashed against the silvery gloves that held it's tail in a death grip.

 _"Danny!"_ The sigh of relief was sucked back into Sam's lungs in a gasp. Her gasp was only a little squeak in the sea of murmurs and shouts coming from the spectators.

Danny swung in a circle midair, dragging the flailing Shadow with him. The dark creature's face contorted in a dropped-jaw-shock expression right before it collided with the edge of the building. The sharp edge split it right down the middle, the two ink splots wavering in the wind for a moment before conjoining again. The feral grin returned to it's face.

Sam felt her jaw tighten, her hands balling into tight fists.

 _"He's fine."_ Sam reminded herself. _"He does this all the time."_ But that didn't make it any easier to breathe.

The Biker shouted something that Sam couldn't hear over the hum of the spectators, but by the accusatory black gloved hand pointing at Danny, she figured he wasn't saying happy birthday. The Shadow responded, speeding towards Danny in a midnight blur. Danny ducked, narrowly avoiding the figure, and shot an ectoblast that went straight through it. It came around for a second time, and Danny managed to slice through the middle of the Shadow with his heel. Before it could completely reform, Danny's glowing hands latched around the creature's face, illuminating the ebony figure in a blazing green radiance.

The top half wailed against the light that grew brighter every second. Even at a distance, Sam had to shield her eyes from the luminescence. It bathed her whole face in a toxic green glow.

The crowd erupted in gasps as he smashed the screeching shadow against the wall, splattering it into glowing globs. With one hand still holding the blinding emerald light, his other hand pulled the Thermos from the back of his pants. The Shadow was washed in a different kind of light as he uncapped the thermos, showering the creature in a pale blue glow. It vanished into the confines of the cylinder, while the other half wavered and inched towards the Biker.

The Biker flailed his arms, shouting a message that the crowd couldn't decipher. The shaggy haired ghost faltered when Danny capped the thermos and turned to him. The ghost's straw-like hair danced in the air with twisted strands as he took a step back and tripped over the ruins of his own bike. He scrambled to rise, but Danny was faster.

The crowd winced as a silver fist slammed against the Biker's face, sending the ghost crashing against the wall. If he was planning to rise again, he didn't get the chance. The pale blue light broke free from the top of the thermos, and the straw-haired ghost, destroyed bike, and Shadow swirled into the turquoise with a muted squeal.

Sam was surrounded by cheers and raised fists, victory cries as if they had actually participated in the fight. She only sighed, slumping her shoulders in relief. Tucker dropped a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She glanced up at him, noting the triumphant grin that made his cheeks stick out like round bulbs.

"You okay?" He whispered. Even if he had shouted the question, Sam doubted anyone would have heard. They were all concerned with their own shouts and high-fives. It was almost as if they had captured the ghost themselves.

"Yeah," Sam winced at the tremor in her voice. "I mean, I was a little bit terrified, but he's okay." She glanced in Danny's direction to find the boy already gone, leaving nothing but a few shattered windows in his wake and a stray string of pearls. "He knows what he's doing." Still, the thought made Sam nervous. Stomach-clenching, sweaty palms, teeth-grinding kind of nervous. She had just got her best friend back, and the possibility of losing him again suddenly seemed way too possible.

"Hey, guys, what'd I miss?"

Danny appeared in between the two of them, his dorky, lopsided smile taking up half of his face. Tucker responded with a cheeky grin of his own.

"You just missed the coolest fight between Phantom and this Biker dude."

"I bet it was awesome." Danny smirked.

"It was _so_ awesome." Tucker nodded, sneaking in a fist bump.

Sam's shoulders shook with quiet laughter as the two reveled in their own joke. The rest of crowd dispersed to go home, clean up the mess outside, or to finish their lunch. Danny and Tucker settled for the latter of the options, sliding back into the booth and taking up the forgotten food. Sam slid in next to Danny.

"So, now you just go back to lunch like it never happened?" She whispered, staring at her fork as if she expected it to do something spectacular.

"Well I don't know about you, but I'm not letting perfectly good food go to waste." As if to prove his point, Danny took an exceptionally large bite out of his burger and grinned, his cheeks popping out like a chipmunk's. Sam just shook her head and laughed. The whole restaurant buzzed with the excited chatter about the One-and-Only Danny Phantom, but only three people knew that the very superhero was eating lunch right beside them. Sam hid her smile with a forkful of salad.


	12. Chapter 12

Sam grinned down at the charred target by her feet.

"Excellent!" Vlad cheered. Ever in his dark charcoal suit, the billionaire strode into the practicing arena, the clapping of his hands evenly paced with his footsteps. "I knew it wouldn't take long. I saw potential, didn't I, Daniel?"

Danny beamed, eyes glittering blue and teeth sparkling white. Sam smiled back as she wiped a gloved hand across her forehead. She brushed her bangs back, now wet with sweat.

"Great job, guys!" Danny said, tossing a water bottle to Tucker, then to Sam. She caught it and flexed her aching fingers against frosted plastic, relishing the feeling of ice on her skin.

Vlad's coal-black shoes crushed the remains of a charred target as he came to a halt by Danny, his hands folded behind his back in a polite, business-like manner.

"That was exceptional for only a few short weeks of training. Especially you, Miss Manson. Perhaps you should consider this line of work as a career." Sam bowed her head in gratitude. Her face, already flushed from training, grew a little bit pinker. "But I would expect no less from students under Danny's supervision." One hand came to rest on Danny's head, ruffling his hair until Danny swatted him away. But the damage was already done. His hair stood straight up, some strands curling like a wave of ink about to crash down on his head.

"Stop doing that!" Danny groaned, trying in vain to flatten his wild hair.

"It really doesn't look that much different." Vlad said, a coy smile crossing his face as he pulled at a strand of Danny's hair, possibly the only one that wasn't standing on end, and pulled it straight up like the rest. Sam laughed as annoyance flickered across Danny's face, scrunching his nose and pulling his eyes into slits.

"Yeah, you always look like that." Tucker joked, taking a long sip of water from his bottle. Half of it spilled out of his mouth when he coughed.

"Yeah, well at least I don't dress like a streetlight."

Tucker shrugged, looking down at his mustard colored shirt, darkened in some places by sweat and ice water.

"It's called fashion." he said, lifting the water bottle to his lips once again. "You wouldn't know." Sam snorted a laugh.

"Danny, have some ice water." she said, capping her bottle and tossing it to him. "I think you just got burned."

He caught it with one hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers as he downed half the bottle.

"Hey, I didn't say all of it." She griped as he tossed it back to her. He just grinned as she caught it and swished around the little that was left in slow circles. It sloshed around lamely, winking at her through the reflections of the lights above. Sam might have thrown it back at him, aiming primarily for the irritatingly adorable smirk plastered on his face, but Vlad's head got in the way. He was too busy checking his phone to notice that he just saved his adopted son from getting nailed in the face with a half empty water bottle.

"Well," Vlad looked up from his phone, giving them a gentle, almost sympathetic smile. A politician's smile. "I wish you the best luck in the competition. Though with that accuracy, I doubt you'll need it."

"Thanks, Mr. Masters." Tucker answered for both of them. Vlad nodded, a slight bob of his head that made the silver strands of his ponytail glitter like jewelry.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of." Vlad said, sliding the phone back into the pocket of his suit. "Congratulations on your progress so far."

He didn't wait for their response before patting Danny on the shoulder and heading towards the door, swinging it closed behind him. Sam stared at the door, wondering what his phone had said to make him rush off so suddenly. But Danny didn't seem fazed, so she guessed it happened pretty often in the busy life of a billionaire.

"So, should we practice some hand-to-hand combat before lunch?" Sam asked, already hanging her gun on the rack.

"We're having lunch?"

Of course _that_ was what Tucker heard.

"Not now." Sam sighed exasperatedly, taking the gun from his hands and hanging it on the rack. "Why do I feel like you only hear half of everything I say?"

"Probably cause I try to ignore all your crazy vegan rambling." he shrugged.

"It's not vegan, it's ultra-recyclo-"

"Rambling." Tucker finished. Sam raised her arm, ready to shove the point of her elbow into the soft of his stomach when she heard Danny groan. She raised her eyes to him, brows arched with concern, just in time to see a little sliver of blue disappear above his head. Her heart sank in pity. He couldn't go a single day without a ghost fight.

Sam closed her eyes, but she could still feel the burn of light shining against her eyelids as white rings spread around Danny's middle, traversing across his body and changing his normal clothes into the black and silver jumpsuit.

"Dude," she heard Tucker say. "I known you've shown us like twenty times already, but that is still _so_ awesome." She hoped he hadn't kept his eyes open the whole time. Hours on the computer had damaged his retinas enough already.

"Uh, thanks, Tuck." Danny said. Even with her eyes closed, Sam could tell Danny was rubbing the back of his neck, the way he always did when he didn't know how to respond to a compliment. Probably blushing, if ghosts could even do that.

"You guys stay here while I take care of this, and then I guess we can go to lunch."

Her stomach started practicing its gymnastic routine again. She knew he would be fine, because he always was, but-

 _"But what if he isn't?"_ her mind teased in the horribly taunting voice that Sam couldn't imagine to be her own. _"Shut up, you. Or me. Or whatever."_ She taunted back, but it didn't do much to take away that nagging in the back of her mind. How useful was she just sitting there, waiting for him to come back, if he's up there hurt, or...Sam clenched her numb fingers into a fist. And that's when inspiration hit like a slap in the face. And almost too late.

He was already halfway through the ceiling when Sam latched onto his foot. She almost expected her hand to go right through him, but it didn't. Her nails stuck to the silver heel of his boot.

"Wait!" She cried, giving his leg a tug. His leg squirmed, thrashing for a second before his head poked through the ceiling, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"What?"

Sam bit her lip, suddenly at a loss for words. She hadn't planned what to say after she caught him.

"Uh, d-do you think," Sam stuttered, knowing that he would probably shoot her down. But she had to at least try. "we could come with you? To get the ghost?" Danny's brow furrowed even more. "I mean, what's the point of all this training if we can't use it?"

Sam was reluctant to let go of his leg, even as he floated down towards her. He could still fly away, and there would be nothing she could do to stop him. Her anxiety eased a little as his feet sunk down to the ground, just an inch or two away from her own boots.

"No." he said in that quiet, stubborn calm.

She had been expecting as much, but that didn't stop her from trying.

"Danny, come on." she whined. He crossed his arms, eyes reading a big _no_. "Even Tucker thinks it's a good idea!"

"Uh, wha-" Sam's elbow dug into Tucker's stomach.

"Right?"

"Yeah." Tucker said in a gasp, one arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. "For training." He said in the most convincing wheeze he was capable of.

"Sam," Danny groaned, running a hand through his white hair. The transformation had changed it back to it's usual messy style, which was just slightly less disheveled than what Vlad had done to it. "a real ghost is a lot more dangerous than a bunch of targets."

"We'll be _fine_ , Danny." Sam used her annoyed teenage girl tone that she had been saving for her mother, eye roll and all. "The competition is in _two_ days, and we have to be ready." Sam switched to her most innocent smile, which had always worked on Danny in the past. "And if you don't take us, we'll just find our own ghost to fight."

Danny's slack-jaw was enough to tell Sam that she'd won.

"If it's a really bad ghost, Sam and I can just step out and let you handle it. Right, Sam?" This time, it was Tucker's elbow in Sam's side.

"Yeah." Sam bobbed her head in agreement, a bit surprised that Tucker was going along with it. She'd never stopped to think if he wanted this as much as she did. Or why.

Danny dragged a hand down his face, looking like he'd just woken up from a three day nap.

"Okay." he said with a sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. "But only because I can't waste anymore time arguing with you. Who knows what damage that ghost has done already."

"Definitely." Sam nodded, her face brightening with a smile. "We should get moving. It could have wrecked half the city by now!" She could feel his eyes glaring at her back as she pulled her gun from the shelf, but he didn't say anything. He just shook his head tiredly as she took his hand, squeezing it tight to make sure he wouldn't try to fly off. He wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed back.

* * *

The ghost was closer than Sam expected. Well, _ghosts_. Four of them, right in Vlad's backyard, which happened to double as a Packer's themed football field. Even though Vlad didn't actually _play_ football, he had the field in hopes that someday the state would allow him to buy the Packers for himself. But as of now, the only players on his field were ghosts.

At first, the ectopi were too busy trying to rip the goalpost from the ground to notice their guests. The biggest one had its tentacles curled around the yellow pole, tugging with all its might before its fiery red eyes locked on Sam. And then, suddenly, the goalpost was a thing of the past.

It unhinged its jaw to let out a shriek, piercing enough to make Sam want to cover her ears. She didn't have the chance. It moved much, much faster than Sam had expected. It was across the field in seconds, barreling towards her. Its tentacles, like glowing snakes, split through the air, aiming to wrap around her torso.

Sam ducked, narrowly avoiding the snaking arm. The turf burned her legs as she rolled, but she hardly noticed. Her finger was already on the trigger of the gun by the time she rolled back onto her feet. The ghost wailed as it's tentacle fell to the ground, severed where Sam's ectoblast had hit. It thrashed in the fake grass until Sam crushed it with the boot of her heel. It squished underneath her foot like jelly.

Sam tried not to gag at the green goop that stuck to her shoe and raised her thermos at what remained of the ectopus. All of its tentacles hurled towards her in one final attack, but they weren't fast enough. It howled at Sam, or maybe at the thermos that had already swallowed its tentacles. Its head bulged from the top of the thermos, giving Sam one last hateful shriek before in vanished in blue light.

She hardly got the cap on before another tentacle wrapped around her leg. Sam gasped as she felt it tighten, the suckers stinging her skin. She dropped the thermos and used both hands to steady her gun. Her eyes squeezed shut as the gun fired, but she could tell by a furious squeal that the blast had met its mark. The tentacle fell from her leg and turned to a pile of goo underneath her boot.

Sucking in a big breath, Sam glanced down at her leg. Angry red circles marked where the tentacle's suckers had been. She gritted her teeth against the sting and forced herself to focus. Her eyes found the rest of the ghostly octopus gnashing its teeth at Sam in a way that told her she had made it very, _very_ unhappy. She raised the ectogun, daring it to come any closer. It snarled, accepting her challenge. And then it disappeared.

Sam blinked in surprise, lowering her gun for just a second. Her gut twisted in worry, and for the first time, a little bit of fear crept in.

 _"Where-"  
_ "Sam!" her gun snapped up at the sound of Tucker's voice. "Behind you!"

The air crackled just behind her head. Her body reacted without needing to think, hours of training kicking in. She dropped to her knees, bowing her head as a tentacle whizzed past, just missing her ponytail by centimeters.

She rolled and rose to a knee. One eye squinted over the gun, aiming for the ghost's head. Her finger pressed on the trigger a second too late. A tentacle whipped out, slapping the gun from her hand.

 _"Damn it!"_ Sam cursed as her gun skittered out of reach. The ghost snapped its jaws in glee. Sam ground her teeth with the distinct feeling that it was laughing at her. _"Don't get too confident, calamari."_ Sam thought, tapping the silver bracelet on her wrist that was much more than just a fashionable accessory. A little gun sprouted from the bracelet, an ectoblast charging at its center.

Sam ducked under a thrashing tentacle and aimed her beloved wrist wray. It had always been her favorite weapon of the Fentons, though the lipstick blaster was a close runner up.

The little gun fired mercilessly, dropping every tentacle that dared approach her. Sam pulled the thermos from her belt and flipped the cap off with her thumb, wanting to get rid of that awful wailing as fast as she could. It bathed the ghost, or what was left of it, in turquoise light as it was stretched and pulled it into the confines of the thermos. She capped it and nearly sighed in relief at the silence. But that didn't last long.

Her darting eyes snapped to Tucker, who was dealing with a ghost of his own. She instinctively stepped towards him, then forced herself to pull was his ghost, and his battle to fight. Not hers.

But it wasn't easy to be a spectator, especially when a tentacle squeezed around Tucker's waist. She almost ignored her own advice and took aim, but Tucker took care of it before she could. A flash of silver glinted against the dark skin of Tucker's hand, and the tentacle fell to the ground in a flailing heap.

The ghost shrieked and sent a tentacle sweeping towards Tucker's feet. He jumped over it like a jump rope, tucking his legs up into his chest. He landed and rolled just in time to avoid another thrashing tentacle. Sam sucked in a gasp as the green arm crashed into the turf where Tucker had been only a second before. It retracted just as quickly, leaving a foot-deep crater sticky with green goo. A second tentacle crashed down next to the crater, this one kicking up patches of turf as it spasmed, searching for the rest of its body.

Tucker dropped to his knees as the remaining arms, Sam didn't bother to count-they all just looked like a green blur to her, thrashed above his head. They moved unpredictably, flailing and trembling in every direction. It had lost, and it knew it.

Sam's fingers tugged at the thermos on her belt. She had to remind herself again that it wasn't her fight. She couldn't take that away from Tucker, even if it made her stomach writhe with worry, seeing him fighting. Alone. Sam bit her lip and forced her fingers to curl into a fist.

"I know." A voice said next to her ear. "I feel the same way."

Sam jumped a few inches off the turf. She whirled to face the voice, once her feet were safely back to the ground. Her wrist wray whirred with power.

"Hey," Danny's form flickered for a second before he solidified in front of her. "Don't shoot! I'm innocent."

"Danny!" Sam cursed, feeling the heat rise into her cheeks, the pounding of her heart beat against her chest. "What are you doing?"

"I've been here the whole time. You know, watching. In case it gets out of hand."

"And you _have_ to stand directly behind me?"

A green blush spread over Danny's cheeks. At least, that's what she thought it was. She'd never seen a ghost blush before, and she would have liked to stare a little while longer, maybe take a picture, but an ear-piercing scream dragged her attention away.

Her heart lurched in panic, until she realized it was much too loud, too high pitched to be Tucker's. Though he did have some questionably little girlish screams.

The shriek ended in a flash of blue light, and the snap of a thermos cap clicking into place. Sam didn't realize she had been holding her breath until it all came out in a rush, a huge sigh of relief.

Tucker was still holding up the thermos like he was ready to fire, one hand still pressed down on the cap as if he was trying to keep it from falling off.

"Tucker?" Danny asked. A rush of air ruffled Sam's hair as Danny flew past her. "You good?"

"I got it." Tucker mumbled. Danny nodded, a slight frown tracing his lips.

"Yeah, you got it."

"I did."

"You did." A soft chuckle slipped past Danny's lips, curving his frown into a gentle smile. "You got the ghost. You can let go now." Danny tugged on the thermos, finally breaking it from Tucker's clenched hands. It was just enough to snap Tucker out of his trance.

"I did it." He said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Sam, we did it!"

Tucker's face broke into the biggest smile Sam had ever seen. A lips curled, pearly white smile. It could have been pulled straight off a cartoon character. "We caught a ghost. I caught _two_ ghosts!"

"I know!" Sam nodded, her own lips breaking into a smile. "You're officially a ghost hunter now." Saying it felt almost as ridiculous as Tucker's cartoon character smile. Tucker, the same boy who plays video games all night and sleeps all day, was a ghost hunter. Ghosts, ghost hunting, a half ghost best friend...it was _all_ ridiculous. Ridiculous and crazy, but ...

"Man, I'm hungry." Tucker grumbled, his enthusiasm suddenly giving away to the thought that it had been a whole three hours since he'd eaten anything.

"Me too." Danny said. "I say Sam buys lunch."

"I second that."

Sam rolled her eyes, too tired to argue. Besides, she probably would have offered to buy them lunch anyway.

"Whatever. But you're buying next time."

"Why doesn't Danny pay?" Tucker griped.

"Cause I'm the transportation, dork." Danny linked his arm through Tucker's, making both of them hover a few inches in the air. "And transportation doesn't have to pay." Danny stretched his other hand out to take hers. Sam took it, linking her fingers in his and trying not to think of how weird it all was. Dodging traffic by carpooling with a ghost hunting ghost to get burgers. Ridiculous and crazy, but she wouldn't want it any other way.

Her feet hovered in the air, stomach growling at the thought of a nice green salad. Or two. Suddenly, lunch was starting to sound like a _really_ good idea.

* * *

 **A/N: I guess this might be kind of a filler chapter, but I wanted to have a fighting scene focused on Sam and Tucker before the competition. Which is the next chapter, by the way. Oh, and a little bit more of the Vlad and Danny relationship. What do you guys think about Vlad? Sweet or suspicious? Maybe both? Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next week!**


	13. Chapter 13

Sam's chest heaved in a deep breath, lavender eyes scanning the faces around her, each one matching the anxiety that she hid behind her usual scowl. Except for one.

Sam stared at that face, sneering at that smug grin of hers. Jade eyes sparkled with confidence.

"Hey, Valerie, go easy on us, okay?" a jock by the name of Dale joked.

"No chance, airhead," Valerie jeered, but her lips curled into a playful smile. Dale was one of the few populars that had stayed in contact with Valerie after she lost her popularity. As far as the A-listers went, Dale wasn't too bad. Still not nice, but not too bad. "I'm here to win this, and you know it." Valerie said, a smirk curving her lips. Sam felt a growl tickle her throat.

"Ready, Sam?" Tucker strode up next to her, adjusting the belt on his waist. Sam glanced down at her own belt saddled on her hips. The black strand formed a shocking difference from the white of her jumpsuit. It felt too light, naked, without her assortment of weapons weighing it down.

"Ready to crush Valerie into coco puffs."

"Harsh."

Sam shrugged. She forced her eyes away from Valerie, deciding to save that burning rage for the competition. She checked out the rest of the competitors instead, and was glad to see that besides Tucker, there wasn't anyone she particularly liked against her. Which meant she wouldn't have to feel guilty about winning, which she was definitely going to do. She wouldn't call it luck, considering there was really only two people in that school that she actually liked, and one of them was standing next to her. The other one was somewhere in the crowd, watching quietly with that lopsided smile of his.

She had spoken to him just before she entered the gym, before he had mixed into the crowd of spectators, and she, into the jumble of competitors. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. He said he would be, and she believed him. But Sam wished he was beside her again.

 _"You'll do great, Sam." he told her, his hands gently squeezing her shoulders. They stood just outside of the gymnasium doors, where they could talk over the flow of music and chatter in solitude."Just remember everything we did in practice. You're ready for this."_

 _"I'm ready for this." Sam agreed, nodding quickly. She hoped saying it would make it true, or at least make her_ feel _like it was true. No such luck. Despite all the training, she still was nervous._

 _"I'll be watching from the stands, okay?"_

 _Sam bobbed her head again, drawing in the confidence that radiated from his eyes. The bell rung- the same bell that sounded for the start of class, though this day, it rang for the contestants to take their places and the spectators to take their seats. "Good luck, Sam," Danny gave her shoulders another squeeze. "I have complete faith in you."_

 _He graced her with a wide smile that sparkled just as bright in her memory._

 _"Thanks, Danny." she sighed, biting down on her bottom lip. "For everything." Music blared from the gymnasium, loud enough to be noticed, but not loud enough to block out the chatter of two hundred students. "I'll see you in the winners' circle."_

 _Danny nodded, his smile growing even brighter._

 _"See you then." He said, disappearing behind the door for spectators._

Sam could still feel the weight of his hands on her shoulders. Just the thought of them gave her confidence. And she definitely needed confidence right then, as her eyes fell to the enormous curtain that had been hung up, blocking half of the gym from sight. It reminded Sam of the ones used in plays-a huge, velvety screen to hide the actors from the audience. But she doubted it would be prettily dressed dancers behind that curtain.

"Students of Casper High," the loudspeaker boomed. Sam turned to see Mr. Masters standing in the middle of the gym, like he had been when he first announced the competition a while ago, but this time he didn't have a podium. He just held a microphone up to his mouth, the black stem blending in with the rich color of his suit. The chatter quickly died off.

"Today is the day we have all been anxiously waiting for. I'm sure you're all as excited as I am, given the promising prospect of students we have competing today." He gestured behind him, where Sam and Tucker stood amongst the other competitors. The stands bursts with cheers as Vlad stepped out of the way to introduce the fighters to the audience.

"Sarah Bailey," he announced, and a girl with a long blonde ponytail and pink headband, much like the one Jazz Fenton always wore, stepped up with a timid wave. Sam knew of her only by name.

"Nathan Crouss." Sarah stepped back to shine the attention on the bushy-haired boy with an alien shirt and glasses even bigger than Tucker's. The boy waved, but it was directed more to Valerie than to the crowd. Valerie scrunched up her nose, but gave him a small, tolerant smile. Sam guessed he was only in the competition for her, considering his athletic abilities were, well... _lacking_ would be the nicest way to put it.

"Kwan Long." Kwan leaped forward.

"That's me!" He shouted, grinning a huge smile that showed his shockingly white teeth. His leather jacket bounced over his white jumpsuit, which looked remarkably odd with his large figure. Sam resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Valerie Gray."

She stepped forward, her green eyes glittering like newly polished emeralds. She reeked with confidence, and unfortunately, with good reason. Valerie didn't bother to wave, or even smile. Grin smugly, perhaps, but Sam was sure that was a permanent fixture on her face. She stepped back as soon as she had stepped forward, making way for the next name on the list.

"Dale Lenning."

Vlad's voice flooded through the speakers as the other jock stepped up. Sam recognized him as the same one that had joked with Valerie earlier, and the one that had called Sam "that black girl. But not like, _black_ black, but like, wears a lot of black. What is it called? Goth or something?" Sam wondered if he could still remember the term. Probably not. He winked and the crowd, a typical jock wink, and stepped down.

"Mikey Kyle." Sam matched the name to the geeky kid with glasses, also known as the Jocks' punching bag. Sam had stood up for him against the football boys plenty of times, but Mikey always seemed to be as scared of her as he was of them. She couldn't remember doing anything to make him that way. Perhaps it was because she was black. But not _black_ black, just wore a lot of black. Whatever the reason, Mikey didn't seem like the type to enter in paranormal combat competitions, but Sam hoped he would do well. Though it didn't seem likely.

"Sam Manson." Sam tensed, hearing her own name boom throughout the gym. Tucker gave her a gentle push forward, urging her claim her title. Sam did, fighting against a blush as she felt the whole gym's eyes on her. She suddenly felt very small compared to the towering stands. Sam looked for Danny among the faces, searching for the startling blue eyes that were unlike any other. She found them, and was a little taken aback to see that they had found her too. Though she _was_ the one on the spotlight, so it was no wonder he was watching her. She saw his lips move, obviously trying to mouth something to her, but she couldn't tell what it was. She took a step back and waited for the next name to be called.

"Kevin Miller." Sam recognized the name as another football player with red hair and freckles. She didn't need to look to see who it was, and she was already busy trying to read what Danny was mouthing to her. Trying and failing, evidently. Kevin nearly rammed into her when he took his step back, making Sam lose Danny's face in the crowd. She didn't try to find him again, because the next name called up brought a big, silly grin to her face.

"Tucker Foley." Beside her, Tucker stepped forward and gave a dramatic bow, causing a few laughs to erupt from the crowd. Sam laughed too, for the first time all day. Once again, she was glad he was with her. A little laughter did a lot for racing nerves, and he could make her laugh more than anybody.

With all the competitors named and accounted for, Vlad took his place in front of them and continued his speech.

"There will be three installments to this year's tournament," he announced. "First will be a test of accuracy, then a trial of dexterity, and last of all, a hand-to-hand combat challenge. At least one person will be dropped from each round until the champions are decided." Vlad turned to the contestants. "Is that clear to you all?"

Sam nodded with the others, each of them wearing a determined face, though some of them looked more forced than others. Mikey's determined face could also pass for an uncomfortable constipation face, but at least he was trying.

"Excellent." Vlad said. His back was towards Sam, but she was sure he was wearing his politician's smile. "Let the competition begin!" The speakers boomed with his enthusiasm, which was easily matched by the roars of the crowd. The sound was deafening, but Sam smiled.

The teachers handed out school-approved ectoguns to each of the competitors, each one shiny with new silver paint. Sam flexed her fingers over the familiar grip. It was just like the ones she and Tucker had used in practice.

Her eyes darted to the judges table, where Vlad was seated in between Mrs. Tetslaff and Mr. Lancer. The billionaire didn't seem to notice the teachers beside him. Or the competitors, for that matter. The back of his head was faced towards Sam, giving her a nice view of his silver ponytail, almost as shiny as the brand new gun. He was talking to somebody. Sam stood on her toes, eyes narrowed at the figure behind him. It was Danny. Of course it was Danny. Vlad never seemed to be very interested in anybody else. They spoke quickly, Danny using quick hand gestures and Vlad just listening. And then Vlad spoke, and Danny just listened. After only a second, Danny stepped back with a quick nod. As if he could feel Sam's eyes on him, Danny glanced over to her.

Sam blushed, realizing that she had been caught staring. Danny just smiled and gave her a thumbs up. Before she could respond, he turned and slipped out of the gym's doors. Her hand, inching up to wave at him, faltered and fell back to her side.

 _"Where is he going?"_ She frowned at the doors that seemed to swallow him whole. _"Must be something for Vlad."_ She knew that he would be back, because he promised her he would be. And he was going to be the victory team's leader, so he kind of had to be there.

Sam checked her reflection in the gun to make sure she didn't look as nervous as she felt. And to make sure her determined face wasn't anything like Mikey's, but it wasn't her own face that caught her attention. Valerie's eyes lingered on her, captured by the reflection. The smug was confidence gone. Those sparkling emeralds didn't seem to glitter any more. They looked almost...sad? Angry, perhaps. Sam never got the chance to ask which one.

A whoosh, a rattle, and then the massive curtain pulled up. The dark violet rippled into velvety wrinkles as it slowly raised to reveal the other half of the gym. And it was definitely, unsurprisingly, _not_ a bunch of prettily dressed dancers. One of the side walls was covered with another curtain; Sam guessed that section would be revealed for the second challenge. But at the moment, Sam was more concerned about what was hidden behind curtain number one. She couldn't help but grin when the velvet cover was pulled away.

Targets, much like the ones at Danny's practice room, had been attached to the wall. She could just see past the green cutouts and make out the gray metallic of an arm.

 _"Moving targets.."_ Sam noted, remembering the first day of training with Danny. The figures had leaped off the wall, with the help of the mechanical arms, and darted around the room like they had a mind of their own. She spared a glance at Tucker, and he smiled at her coyly. They had come a long way since that first day of training. Moving targets sounded like a piece of cake compared to what Danny had put them through. Or more realistically, what Sam had convinced Danny to put them through.

The rules were very straight forward. They went one at a time, each person having five targets that darted different ways at different speeds. Don't shoot at someone else's targets, wait your turn, and please, don't shoot yourself in the foot. Or anyone else. And pulling a Katniss and shooting at the judges was highly frowned upon. There would be one elimination, based on who had the worst score. When everyone nodded their understanding, the competition began.

The first to go was Dale, who hit three out of five, though none were clean bull's eyes. Sarah went next, and to Sam's amazement, four fell to her steady aim, one exploding into shards as her blast hit dead-center. The crowd cheered for her, and Sarah took a humble bow to the audience.

Sam watched each person take their turn with growing impatience. The crowd, however, seemed to enjoy every second of it. Each target that fell brought forth another set of gasps and cheers. Valerie received a good number of those gasps and cheers when her turn to shine rose up. Taking her stance above the taped X on the floor, Valerie held her arm steady, gun raised to the targets as they shot from the wall. They seemed to dance, never staying in one place for more than a few seconds. This didn't seem to bother Valerie, who shot down the first two targets so fast that even the judges had to lean closer and squint to prove what their eyes had just seen. Sam fought down a growl as two more targets exploded into shards, and the last one clattered to the floor with a smoking hole through the inner ring. Not a bull's eye, but damn close to it.

Valerie tucked the gun back into her belt and strode back to the line, her head held high. She took the spot next to Sam without sparing the girl a look, as if she hadn't even seen her. Valerie's face remained stoic, but Sam knew she must be hearing the impressed murmurs of the judges. They all gaped at the timer on the wall. 8 seconds. Valerie was _definitely_ moving to the next round.

Sam glanced at dark skinned sharp shooter through the corner of her eye.

 _"Three bull's eyes in less than ten seconds."_ She thought. Whether she liked Valerie or not, Sam had to admit that it was impressive. Actually, it was _phenomenal._ She expected Valerie to be gloating in her own success, but if she was, no one could tell. Sam watched her out of her peripheral vision, searching for any of that former arrogance, but there was nothing. Her eyes were cold and unmoving, as if she was watching the most boring documentary to ever curse television. The expression was extremely out of place for someone who had just blown the judges' socks off. And the crowd's.

Sam dared a glance up at the stands. She wondered if Danny had seen that, or if he was still gone.

"Wish me luck, Sam." Tucker whispered as his name was called up.

"You don't need it." She said, grinning. And she really meant it. Tucker nodded his thanks and strode up to the taped X. The equipment crew darted out of the way, having just replaced the old targets, or their charred remains, with five new ones.

Sam sucked in her breath as Tucker took aim. She knew he would do fine. Hell, he had just taken down a real ghost a few days ago. But with all these people watching, the pressure was like a hundred pound weight, and Tucker had never performed well under pressure. Maybe he really did need that luck he was asking about. Sam held her breath and waited.

The targets shot forward, one aimed directly at him. It fell with a clatter, and Tucker's body instantly turned to the next one. It dropped just as fast. Turn, shoot...the third target hit the ground in shattered pieces. Sam beamed.

 _"Bull's-eye!"_ She cheered him on in her head, though she stayed quiet on the outside. As much as she would love to shout and cheer for her friend, she would leave that until after he finishes. _"He doesn't need a distraction."_ She reminded herself. _"Not now."_

The fourth target split clean down the middle. Almost a bull's-eye, but not quite. The last one rained down in smithereens, and this time, Sam really did cheer out loud. The judges muttered to themselves, the cleaning crew scrambled to do their business, and Tucker marched back triumphantly to take his place next to Sam.

"See?." She whispered to him, catching his hand in a high-five, then a fist bump. "No luck needed."

"I'm pretty sure that last one was luck." he chuckled quietly. Sam glanced at the pieces and shook her head.

"No, Tuck, that was skill."

"Did you catch my time?" He asked, glancing at the blank clock. "I was too nervous to look before they wiped it."

"Sorry, I was too busy fangirling over how cool you are." Sam joked, lightly punching his arm.

"Yeah, that's what all the girls say." He smirked, and Sam laughed. She thought about hitting him again, but he was still rubbing the place where she had hit him the first time. Plus, he'd have his fill of bruises when the hand to hand combat portion came around. She didn't want to make it worse.

"It was ten seconds."

Valerie spoke up, her voice holding none of the former attitude that Sam was used to.

"Oh, uh, thanks." Tucker said. Valerie just nodded, not making eye contact with either of them.

 _"What's up with her?"_ Sam scowled at the girl, who payed her no attention. It was really starting to get on her nerves. She was up to something, Sam was sure.

The crowd continued their mantra of "oohs," and "aahs," as another contestant took their turn. Sam recognized it as Kevin by the red hair and football type of body, but other than that, she didn't spare him much of a glance. She didn't really care how he did, and she couldn't focus if she wanted to. Not with Valerie standing so close to her, no doubt scheming up something awful.

 _"Don't let her get to you, Sam."_ she told herself. _"She's doing this on purpose! Trying to psych you out. Sorry, Valerie, that's not happening. Not today, hon-"_

"If you're done glaring at me, I think it's your turn." Valerie said coolly. Sam blanched, noticing the other contestants staring at her expectantly. The crowd had gone silent.

"Sam, go!" Tucker whispered, gently shoving her forward for the second time that day. Hoping her face wasn't _too_ red, she took the hint and marched towards the X, hand already inching towards the trigger of her gun.

 _"Alright, Sam, time to shine."_

Her legs bent slightly at the knees, giving her the best position for fast turns. She raised the gun to her cheek and stared down the barrel, daring the targets to move. As they started to jostle to life, Sam couldn't tell whether the butterflies in her stomach were because of nerves or excitement. Her pride said the latter.

The first target bounced off the wall, coming at her for only a second before it exploded into green shards.

 _"Yes!"_

Her body moved instinctively, muscle memory from the hours of practice coming back to blast the targets into oblivion. Another went down, spraying tiny pieces in every direction. Crouched low, her arms turned in the direction of the next target. She could feel the cold chill of metal pressing against her cheek. Her breaths turned the shiny metal foggy. The trigger bit against her finger. Another down. Not a bull's-eye, but it split down the middle.

Sam could almost feel Danny's hand on her shoulder, warm breath on her neck as he pointed to a target.

 _"Always look at the target. Your hands will follow wherever your eyes go."_ the voice in her head echoed what Danny had told her several times. The target exploded. Another bull's-eye.

 _"That's three!"_ Sam felt her stomach clench in anticipation. If she could just hit _one more_ bull's-eye..

The target launched at her. Sam took a deep breath, imagining Danny's finger pointing at it, reminding her to aim, follow it with her eyes. The trigger burned against her finger. Her eyes locked on the target, and just as Danny had always told her, her hands followed. The click of the trigger seemed louder than the shot itself, but not as loud as the target shattering and raining down into a smoldering pile.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but of everyone, Tucker was the loudest.

 _"Thanks, imaginary Danny."_ She grinned, dropping her arms to her side. Four out of five bull's-eyes in-she glanced at the clock- 11 seconds. She was pretty sure that was the best score of the day.

Tucker clapped her on the back before submerging her in a bear hug. She laughed and thanked him, and then pushed him away before he crushed her lungs for good. Out of habit, it seems, her eyes darted to the stands.

Danny was there. He was grinning, one thumb sticking up in approval. _"Thanks, Danny."_ She thought, as if he could read her mind. Then she remembered that mind reading wasn't in his skill set yet, and gave him a thumbs up and the biggest smile she could manage, not caring if it broke her usual goth demeanor.

The competitors were given a small break as the judges tallied up the scores, though they already knew who would be disqualified for the first round. Sam couldn't help but feel a little bit of pity as Kwan was escorted out, using the teachers as crutches. The jock had broken one of the only rules-shooting himself in the foot before he could even hit a single target. He took it like a champ though, laughing it off as the teachers bandaged his foot. His shoe had taken the brunt of the impact, leaving him with only a little, but painful looking burn on his foot. Nothing that wouldn't heal in a few days time.

Everyone's eyes rose anxiously to Vlad as he rose to announce the next challenge.

"Wasn't that exciting?" he asked. The crowd roared in agreement. "I knew this year would pull out a spectacular group of students. Down to seven, it seems. And now, you're all anxiously waiting for the next challenge, I presume?" Another roar of approval. "Then let's take a look behind curtain number two." The curtain covering the side wall rose at his command. This curtain was a rich purple, the color of plum. And as fascinated as she was by the beautiful color, Sam was even more captivated by what the curtain uncovered.

 _"It's a.. climbing wall?"_

Her eyebrows spiked to her hairline. She hadn't trained for anything like this. The rock wall stretched all the way to the roof, dotted with colorful stone handholds. Except, the handholds were more than just fake rocks. Some of them appeared solid, but others were broken, glowing, or otherwise unsafe. Sam gulped.

"As you may be able to tell," Vlad spoke over the excited murmur of the spectators, "this is more than just your little brother's rock wall. While many of these rocks are proficient hand and footholds, many of them are trick rocks as well. Behind these trick rocks are a host of surprises. Our competitors," he gestured to the remaining seven, "will be demonstrating their dexterity by dodging the little surprises behind the rocks. The last one to reach the top will be disqualified."

Vlad turned to the seven. "Understand?" Seven heads nodded.

"Good. The volunteer teachers will help you attach the harnesses. Don't want anyone falling to their deaths, now do we?" He laughed heartily. The seven competitors chuckled with much less enthusiasm. Sam bit her lip and studied the wall. A few rocks shook, and one leaked suspicious red bubbles out the side. She would definitely be avoiding that one.

"Two students will we be eliminated this round," Vlad said, regaining his composure. "Congratulations, and good luck." He made his way back to the judges' table, the crowd cheering at his back. Sam watched the towering wall, trembling, bubbling, and glowing, and realized that she could really use that good luck on this one.

* * *

 **A/N: Can you imagine if schools actually had things like this? Like pep rallies, but way more violent. I think I would like that. I'm not saying I would participate, cause I'm really not all that athletic, but just watching it would be cool. And you get to skip a whole day of class, so you can't really go wrong with that. What events would you choose if you had to design a tournament day? Any thoughts? I'd love to hear them! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next week!**


	14. Chapter 14

A gasp was yanked from her lips as the harness hitched snugly around her waist. Sam smiled uneasily at the teacher that had suited her up, stitching the harness through the belt loops that were usually used for holding her weapons.

"Ready, Sam?" The woman, Mrs. Fickle, asked her. Sam nodded.

 _"As ready as I could be.."_ She thought begrudgingly, warily watching the wall as it moved with a life of its own. Sam nearly jumped out of her harness when the rock right beside her face suddenly popped and fell from its hole. Steaming green goo poured from its place. She gulped, but forced her face to remain neutral.

Sam wished that Tucker could have been placed beside her, but he was assigned a different position. So Sam forced herself to focus on the track ahead of her. Her eyes narrowed at the wall, trying to map out which rocks would be the safest to grab, but it was almost impossible.

 _"That one looks safe,"_ Sam mused, eying a red painted rock. Just as the thought came into mind, the red rock split down the middle and shot out a glowing stream of ectoplasm. Sam blanched. _"Nevermind.."_

She didn't get a chance for a second try.

"Ready, competitors.." Sam's heart seemed to vibrate along with the speakers. She braced her fingers against the first rocks, the only ones she knew to be steady. Her body tensed, waiting for the starting horn. She should have gone to the bathroom before this...

The horn blared from the speakers, and the crowd went into a frenzy. Sam's fingers dug into the rough material of the fake stone, and she propelled herself up to the next one, the next one, and the one after that. Not for the first time that day, Sam was very thankful that she was already in good shape. In the back of her mind, her thoughts quickly fluttered to Tucker, who was not the most athletic type. She wondered how he was faring.

Sam gasped as the rock under her left hand crumbled, and little pieces of stone rained down below her, some getting in her shoes and wedging themselves underneath her heal. Her left hand swung limply in the air, and the audience on her side gasped as Sam dangled with only one good hand. With a grunt, Sam stretched her vacant hand up to the next rock and pulled herself to it. The muscles in her arm ached, but not painfully so. As her foot found another hold, the cries of the audience reached her ears. One of the other contestants must have been struggling.

Her right foot gave out under another false rock, but she moved it just as fast and hooked her heal onto another one.

 _"Left, right, left, right..."_ Sam chanted to herself. Her hands and feet followed in that pattern. Sam spluttered as bits of rock fell into her eyes and slightly parted mouth. The contestant beside her, Dale, had gotten a little ahead and was crushing false stones under foot. The fact that the bits fell into Sam's face was hardly a mistake either. She would have cussed him out if she'd had the breath.

Sam's angered fueled her to move faster, and soon she was neck and neck with the jock. The boy glanced at her and sneered. Sam matched his expression. They raced up, and soon Sam's slight figure and agility gave her the upper hand. Before long she was a foot length's ahead of him, and the end was drawing nearer and nearer every second. Her eyes caught on the shiny bell at the top of the wall, just waiting for her. She was so fascinated by the thought of twirling that string in her hands, listening to the loud ring of the honey-gold bell that she failed to notice the hand wrapping around her ankle until it was too late.

A squeak tore from Sam's lips as Dale pulled her down. The rocks crumbled underneath her fingers as the desperately grappled for them. The crowd mirrored her horror, various pitched screams coming from the stands as Sam fell through the air, still clawing at the wall. Her harness clenched against her stomach so tightly that the breath hidden safely in her lungs was ripped out with a hoarse gasp. Her body slammed against the wall, stones jutting into her sides like daggers. Yellow stars danced behind her eyelids.

Her foot found a place to rest, but she couldn't move. Her lungs screamed and her throat felt as though a crack was splitting down the middle of it. The audience shouted, and Sam could make out her own name in some of those cries. Her heart added to the ache as another sound rose above the cries. The ringing of the first bell sounded as clear as a spring morning. The first competitor had already made it to the top, and she was stuck in a state of paralysis, her body unwilling to cooperate.

 _"Come on, Sam, you can do this! You didn't go through all that training to lose because of that stupid jock!"_ Her mind screamed, but the rest of her body didn't share her brain's determination. In the end, it wasn't the cries of the crowd that cleared the fog in her head, or the ringing of another bell, but the sound of Dale's laughter as he stared down at her, helplessly stuck in place. His laugh grated on her nerves like a rusty handsaw.

 _"That arrogant bastard!"_ Sam hissed. The pain coursing through her body was momentarily forgotten, and her hands twitched back to life. She forced herself up another handhold. The stone she grabbed was burning hot-another trick rock-but Sam ignored it as it seared her hand. She simply reached to another, her scowl blocking out any pain from reaching her face.

Dale's laughter stopped as soon as he saw her face, her dark purple eyes glinting coldly at him like slates of painted ice. Sam saw the boy gulp, and then turn away from her. His attention became focused on the rocks ahead of him. He sped up.

As Sam edged closer, her name became more prominent in the crowd. Louder and louder, until the whole gymnasium shook with her name.

"SAM, SAM, SAM, SAM!" bounced off the walls and off her eardrums. People she couldn't stand, and people that couldn't stand her, were shouting her name. She supposed that wasn't so unusual. During the competition, the social ladder was forgotten. It didn't matter if you were a jock or a geek-whoever proved to be the most interesting contestant quickly won the favor of the crowd. At the moment, that unlikely hero was Sam.

"SAM, SAM, SAM, SAM!" the crowd continued to cheer as she advanced higher. Her whole body ached, and her ribs shrieked with each fervent beat of her heart, but Sam just ground her teeth against the pain and put another hand forward. She didn't go through weeks of training to fall under some cocky jock. If she failed now, she would fail herself, and she would fail Tucker. She would fail _Danny_. Sam couldn't let that happen, not again. She refused to make all that time he spent helping her train go to waste. No. She _had_ to win this.

Sam wondered if the look of horror on Dale's face when she drew up to him was similar to the one she wore when he pulled her off the wall. Or perhaps the look of horror really occurred when Sam pulled back her fist. She couldn't see his face as he fell, because his hands covered it while he was trying to stop the blood rushing from his nose.

To her surprise, the crowd roared even louder at her revengeful sabotage. Dale was caught by his harness and managed to guard his face before he smacked into the wall, but he was stuck in last place. Sam paid him no more attention. Her goal was that golden bell now, and no one was going to get in her way.

The rocks fell below her, and more than once Sam had to dodge a spraying rock that shot out streams of water or ectoplasm. One exploded just past the tip of her nose, and the glow of it turned her whole face a soft hue of green. She sped past it as quick as she could and wrapped her fingers around the next one. With only one more foot away from the string of the bell, the rock under her right foot used out a sticky green substance that glued her foot down like cement. Sam shouted at the rock as if it could understand her, and tried kicking it off, but her foot was stuck solid.

"Damn it!" Sam cried aloud as another bell rang, and she was still stuck. Her fingers just grazed the tip of the string.

"SAM, SAM, SAM, SAM" the crowd continued to chant.

"Come on, please let go.." Sam hissed at the green goo, knowing that her time was ticking away. With one desperate kick, the whole rock became unlodged and stuck to the toe of her shoe. _"Okay.."_ Sam frowned at the rock that had made its home on her foot. _"Not what I was thinking, but that's good enough for me."_

With the goey rock in tow, Sam leaped forward and caught the string of the bell in between her fingers. She could barely hear its ring above the roar of the crowd. Warmth flooded her cheeks. She was never one to seek the crowd's approval, but she had to admit, it was kind of nice.

The exhaustion didn't really hit her until she reached her floor. Her knees buckled, and she used it as an excuse to unbuckle her harness. The crowd may have been fooled, but Tucker wasn't.

"Sam! Are you okay?" the African-American boy knelt beside her.

"I, uh, yeah" Sam stuttered. Her lungs cried out for breath, but screamed in pain with each breath she took. "I think I hurt something when I hit the wall." she whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear it.

Tucker's jaw hardened into a firm line against his chocolatey skin. His eyes flashed.

"I didn't see what happened, but Mrs. Fickle told me Dale tried to knock you off the wall."

"He _did_ knock me off the wall." Tucker's eyes grew comically wide.

"The harness stopped me from hitting the ground, which still hurt. A _lot_ ," Sam tenderly touched where the harness had cinched against her stomach. She was sure there was an angry red stripe going across her middle, but she couldn't lift her shirt to check with all the people watching her from the stands. "But I hit the wall pretty hard." Sam's fingers found their way to her ribs. She winced at the gentle contact.

"You think it's broken?" Tucker murmured, his voice heavy with concern.

"I don't know." Sam took another deep breath, and this time, she couldn't mask her wince. "I don't think so." She'd never broken anything in her life, but she had heard that a broken rib would make it almost too painful to breathe. It hurt, a lot, but not that much.

Tucker looked behind her, and a second later a hand fell on her shoulder.

"Great Gatsby, Miss Manson, that was a nasty fall you had there. Are you okay?"

Sam glanced up at her slightly overweight teacher.

"Uh, hi Mr. Lancer," Sam said, struggling to hide her wince at each word. "I'm okay..I think."

"You don't look okay." he pointed out, his thick eyebrows furrowing into one. Sam blushed. "Can you stand?"

Sam rose from her knees with little difficulty, but when she straightened, she gasped, doubling over in pain. Immediately, Tucker and Mr. Lancer were there, holding her steady.

"Sam.." Tucker murmured worriedly.

Her outburst attracted some attention from the crowd, and now a few people were pointing at her hunched figure and murmuring to each other.

Sam squeezed her eyes shut, bracing them against tears.

 _"It doesn't hurt."_ Sam forced herself to think. _"It doesn't hurt and I am definitely_ not _going to cry. I am Sam Manson, and Sam Manson_ does not _cry."_

She straightened, much slower this time. The audience was beginning to take notice of her, and Sam wanted to get away as fast as possible. She couldn't let them see her as weak, and she definitely couldn't let the judges know she was hurt. They would force her out of the competition, and then Valerie would win. She couldn'tlet that happen. What would Danny think? Would he think it was a mistake, taking all that time to train her when she would just fail out on the second challenge? The thought made a fresh wave of tears threaten the brim of her squeezed-shut eyelids. Sam didn't know when his opinion had started making such a huge impact on her. Since when did she care what Danny thought?

The pain in her ribs started to fade into cold. She felt as if an icy hand had wrapped itself around her middle, absorbing her pain. She stood weakly, with the help of Tucker and Mr. Lancer.

"I suggest you go to the nurse," Mr. Lancer told her.

"Wait," Sam squeezed Tucker's arm as he started to lead her towards the doors. "Mr. Masters is standing up," she said slowly. It was starting to hurt less, but she found herself shivering from the sudden cold on her ribs. "I think he's about to announce something."

Vlad held the microphone to his mouth, proving Sam's words true.

"Wasn't that enthralling?" he asked the audience, who cheered in return. "In order of first to last, the competitors who will be moving on to our next segment are Sarah Bailey," the crowd cheered, but Tucker grumbled in Sam's ear.

"That chick sabotaged me. I'm never going to ask her out again."

Sam laughed, and instantly regretted it. Pain took a bite at her side, but as soon as it came, the cold grew stronger and froze it away. Sam could vaguely make out the outline of the cold spot against her shirt. If she were to trace it with her fingers, she would copy over five invisible fingers and a palm. A hand print shrouded in frost.

"Valerie Gray," more cheering.. "Tucker Foley," Sam smiled at him as his name was called. "Mikey Kyle, Kevin Miller, and Sam Manson." Sam let out a sigh of relief as the crowd cheered louder than ever. Nathan and Dale (thanks to her) were out. She had made it, and from the roar of the audience, they approved of her victory.

"Nice job," Tucker whispered to her. "I think you're the favorite."

Sam chuckled, and was pleasantly surprised that no pain managed to slip through the cold.

"They only like me cause I almost died."

"And cause you punched Dale."

"You saw that?"

"That, I did see." Tucker grinned. "And believe me, I was cheering louder than the all of the stands combined."

Sam grinned. "Thanks, Tuck."

"Competitors and audience," Mr. Masters stole their attention with his regal voice. "We'll have a lunch break in the cafeteria before our next challenge. The competition will resume in an hour." Vlad sat back down in his chair, talking with the teachers/judges while the stands cleared out for lunch. Sam wondered if Danny had anything to do with the convenient break. Her face warmed at the thought, despite the cold radiating from her middle.

"Will you be able to walk or should I call for a stretcher?" Mr. Lancer asked. Sam paled at the idea of being hauled around on a stretcher. Talk about embarrassing.

"No," Sam shook her head, her soft tresses of black hair dancing with the movement. "Tucker will help me." Sam smiled at the teacher who had been with them since Freshman year. "We can manage," she said, knowing that he was about to offer his own hand for help. "And I think the other judges are waiting for you." Her head tilted in the direction of the judges' table. A conflicted expression crossed his face before Lancer nodded, knowing how stubborn Sam Manson could be, and left them.

Sam leaned on Tucker for support. The right side of her body, now numb from the cold, seemed to have a support of its own.

Tucker pushed open the door and led her in the direction of the office. Once the doors swung shut behind them, a sigh ruffled Sam's hair in a cold breeze.

"You had me really worried, Sam." A soft voice said in her right ear. Tucker jumped at the voice, and if Danny's invisible figure hadn't been holding her up, Sam would have fallen on her face at the sudden absence of Tucker's support.

An echoing laugh filled the hallway. A black hazmat suit materialized beside Sam, followed by rest of Danny's ghost form.

"Chill, Tuck, it's just me." Danny smiled. Tucker visibly slumped.

"Don't do that, man!" He cried, holding a hand to his heart. "You almost scared me to death," he grinned slyly, fear already forgotten. "No pun intended."

"Hilarious." Danny deadpanned. "I'm gonna fly Sam to the nurse. Wanna lift?" Danny extended a silver hand to Tucker.

"I'll just walk." Tucker said, shaking his head. The less time he spent in the infirmary, the better. "You lovebirds do your thing." He motioned them away with a flutter of his hands.

"We're not lovebirds," they said in sync.

"Yeah, whatever." Tucker smirked.

Danny grumbled, and Sam shivered as the strange tingling of invisibility washed over her.

"This'll be much faster than walking." Danny chuckled, and phased them both through the wall. It hurt when she gasped, but not as much anymore. It was more numb than anything.

After a few more walls and hallways blinked past her eyes, Sam found herself staring down at a girl with a beautiful copper waterfall of red hair, too busy reorganizing the medicine in the school nurse's office to notice the two figures floating above her head. She hummed to herself as she worked, completely oblivious to them.

Sam felt Danny's chest move behind her as he silently laughed at his sister. Sam bit her tongue at her own laughter; Jazz had never seemed like the singing type to her. She was always serious, calculating-not usually one to spend her days alphabetizing pills and humming.

"Hey, Jazz." Danny greeted, turning visible as his silver boots touched down on the white-tiled floor. At her brother's sudden appearance, Jazz let out an uncharacteristic screech. The bottle of pills went flying. It smacked against the wall and clattered to the floor, pills spilling everywhere.

"Danny!" Jazz whined, gaping at the mess of pills on the floor. "I told you never to sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry," Danny said, not looking sorry at all. He set Sam down on her own feet, though one hand, glowing light blue, remained wrapped around her injured ribs. "Sam's hurt." he said, his playful smile disappearing.

"Hurt?" Jazz's delicate face turned into a frown. Her eyes fell onto Danny's icy hand, as if she could see through it. Jazz knelt before her and told Danny to move his hand. Danny complied, and Sam immediately missed his cold touch. The pain broke through in the cold's absence, and Sam bit her lip, her eyes threatening to spill over in tears.

Jazz laid a tender hand on Sam's ribs, and despite her attempts of strength, Sam couldn't stop the soft cry that escaped her lips. Danny was back instantly, pressing his icy palm against the bruise that was already forming. Jazz's frown deepened.

"Danny, can you leave for a minute?" she asked.

"What?" the half-ghost cried, his shocked expression taking on a hue of hurt. "Why?"

Sam found herself asking the same question. She didn't want Danny to leave as much as he didn't want to go. His ice powers were an extremely efficient pain reliever, and him just being there was...comforting. She couldn't say why, and she would never admit it, but she couldn't deny it either.

Jazz's lips tugged into a smile at her brother's defiance.

"Relax, Danny," her laugh was soft and airy, "I'm not going to dissect her or anything. But she needs to take her shirt off so I can see the damage, and that is not happening with you here."

It took a second for Danny to comprehend what she was saying, but when he did, his cheeks began to glow an unearthly green.

"Oh, uh, yeah, that makes sense, I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll just go then, and, uh, find Tucker." He stepped back, tripping over a small stool. He smacked into the medicine shelf, causing more pill bottles to spill down on him and scatter across the floor.

"Danny!" Jazz griped as a handful of pink pills scattered at her feet.

"Sorry, Jazz!" his face turned even greener as he struggled to pick up the little pills that dotted the floor by her shoes. "I'm leaving now." He fumbled with the bottle and almost dropped it again. Finally, he stuck it back on the shelf, angrily muttering to himself. Jazz just pointed at the door, irritation written all over her face.

He nodded and shuffled to the door, bearing a striking resemblance to a kicked puppy. Sam wondered why he took the time to use the door when he could just as easily fly away. The boy was a mystery in so many ways.

"Danny?" Jazz asked sweetly as her brother reached for the doorknob. He looked at her over his shoulder. "No peeking, okay?" She smiled. Both girls knew he would never dare such a thing, but it seemed as though Jazz was testing how embarrassed he could get before he passed out. Plus, he owed her some amusement, considering the mess he'd made of her office. Just after she had done all that tedious organizing, too.

Sam laughed as the green glow spread from his cheeks to his whole face. She hoped her blush was a bit more subtle than that.

"Shut up, Jazz." He mumbled under his breath before hurrying out the door.

With the distraction of Danny gone, Sam's pain began to kick in again. It stole the laughter from her lungs and wiped the smile clean off her face, replacing it with a grimace. Sam's grandma would tell her it was karma for laughing at him.

"Okay, Sam, the shirt is gonna have to go." Jazz said in a motherly tone-soft, yet firm at the same time. The copper-haired girl dropped two pills into her hand out of a bottle that she seemed to pull out of thin air.

Sam lifted the black material over her head, gasping at the fire that erupted in her ribs. She bit her lip, forced the gasp back down her throat, and slowly eased the shirt over her head. With the shirt gone, her hair fell down in messy wisps that tickled her bare shoulders.

"That was easy." Jazz said to herself. Sam raised her eyebrows at that, not quite sure how to take it. Jazz turned pink, her own karma for teasing her brother.

"I didn't mean it like that!" She covered her mouth with her hand. "It's just that Danny tends to struggle when I'm trying to patch him up." Jazz chuckled softly, her shoulders slumping defeatedly. "He tries to hide it when he's hurt. I think it's a boy thing."

Sam opened her mouth to speak, but Jazz brushed the conversation away with a wave.

"But Danny is not the subject right now. You were able to raise your arms without too much difficulty, so that tells me that your ribs aren't broken, but there is definite bruising." Jazz noted, running a scrutinizing eye over the blue-purple discoloration.

Sam sighed in relief. _"At least it isn't broken."_

"So what should I do?" She asked aloud. Jazz dropped the pills into Sam's palm.

"There's not much. Bruised ribs will heal by themselves, but it takes time. For now, take these, and get some rest."

"But the competition-"

"The best thing would be to drop out of the competition."

Sam was shocked into silence.

"Drop...out?" Sam said slowly, not believing what she heard. "Jazz, I can't just _drop out_! I've been training so hard, I can't just give up. Danny-"

"I know, Sam. Danny told me how hard you guys have been working for this. I'm not saying that you have to, but it's my responsibility to tell you what you _should_ do." she squeezed Sam's hand, more of a motherly gesture than Sam's actual mom had ever been able to pull off. With Jazz's soft voice, tender hands, that striking red hair, Sam couldn't help but think of Maddie. Sam had never realized how much Jazz looked like her mother, too. It could be Maddie sitting there, holding her hand right then, and she wouldn't be able to tell the difference. The thought hurt even more than the pain etched into her ribs. Maddie had been like a second mother to her, and at times, more of a mother than her own. "Danny will understand," Jazz comforted. Her light eyes mirrored the sadness in Sam's eyes, watching her with sympathy beyond her age. "He would rather see you drop out than get hurt. You know that."

Sam just nodded weakly, avoiding Jazz's eyes. She was right, but Sam couldn't bring herself to think that. How could she just give up? Sam Manson never was a quitter, and she couldn't see a few bruised ribs changing that.

"Your ribs are in a fragile state right now," Jazz said quietly, calmly. "And if something like that happens again, it could break them and do a lot of damage to your body."

Sam paled, and Jazz continued. "The third challenge is hand to hand combat, right?"

Sam nodded silently.

"Imagine what will happen if you get hit." Jazz shook her head, copper strands glittering under the dim light. "Just think about yourself, Sam. Is this competition worth that much to you?"

Sam faltered, her mouth opening and closing several times without an answer. A knock on the door saved her from a response, or lack of one.

"It's Danny again." he called out

"And Tucker!"

"Yeah, and Tucker," Danny's voice rang from behind the door. "Is Sam, uh, decent now?"

"We have lunch!" Tucker chirped.

"I'm starting to think Tucker has another stomach where his brain is supposed to be." Jazz whispered as Sam pulled the shirt over her head. Sam wanted to laugh, but couldn't bring herself to do it. And the pain was only part of the reason. "Come in."

The door swung open.

"I got you a salad." Danny said, holding up the plastic box for her to see.

"You mean rabbit food?" Tucker remarked while taking a bite of his meatloaf-to-go.

"He means _healthy_ food." Sam corrected with a scowl. "I know that's a little advanced for your vocabulary."

"Ouch." he responded calmly, too engrossed in his food to care about being insulted.

Danny and Tucker found seats on stools and gave Sam her lunch. Jazz winced as they crushed spilled pills under their feet.

"So how are you feeling, Sam?" Tucker asked in between bites. "You're the talk of the school right now. People are placing bets on you, ya know." He laughed, and Sam bit the inside of her cheek, glancing at Jazz from the corner of her eye.

"Oh."

As if he sensed her uncertainty, Tucker dropped his fork back into the box. His eyebrows pinched together.

"You're still in the competition, right?" the room grew deadly silent, every ear waiting to hear what her lips would utter. Sam fiddled with the to-go box in her hands, suddenly feeling the pain in her ribs more keenly than ever.

She cleared her throat. "Well.."

 **A/N: The rock wall of doom is inspired by the one at Camp Half Blood. Percy Jackson, anybody? My favorite book series, by the way. The one in the book had lava running down it, but I think that would literally burn up the competition in this story. And real lava would probably be way out of the school's price range. Anyway, thank you for reading, reviewing, following, whatever it is you do! I love you all, and I'll see you next week.**


	15. Chapter 15

" _Well.."_

Sam shrugged. "The pain meds should kick in pretty soon. I'm already starting to feel better." She accepted an ice pack from Jazz and put it on her ribs, ignoring the girl's tired sigh.

The boys still watched her expectantly, as if that wasn't answer enough. She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I'm still in. Sam Manson is not a quitter." She smirked. "And it doesn't hurt that bad anymore." She once heard that if you lie to yourself enough, you will start to believe your own lie. Sam was hoping that philosophy would come true.

"Yes!" Tucker jumped in the air, a fist raised in triumphant victory. His to-go box flew through the air with his sudden jump, but Danny managed to catch it before it splattered on the floor, making an even bigger mess for Jazz.

 _"Thank goodness for superhero reflexes,"_ Sam thought, watching Danny balance the box on one finger. Danny suddenly caught her gaze, and she looked away. Sometimes she got this uncanny feeling that he could read her thoughts, and she wasn't a fan of having an audience in her mind.

"Sam, are you sure you'll be okay?" Danny asked, giving Tucker his lunch back when the techno geek sat back down.

"I'll be fine, Danny." She said with more confidence than she actually had.

Danny didn't respond, instead, his eyes dropped to the plastic box in his lap that held his lunch-meatloaf...something. Sam never stared too long at the cafeteria food, at risk of falling ill at the mere sight of it. Tucker, however, seemed to have no qualms as he stuffed his face one forkful at a time.

"So," Jazz said idly rubbing her knees as she leaned back and forth on her stool. Three sets of eyes turned in her direction. "Danny told you guys about his powers?"

"He told Sam," Tucker corrected. "But I saw it first hand. Scared the shit out of me at first-"

"But, yeah," Sam finished. "We know now."

"Danny only wanted to protect you guys, and-"

"Jazz!" Danny interrupted, his cheeks dusted a light pink. "We talked about it already. Everything's...fine." His hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. Ignoring her brother's outburst, Jazz continued.

"I'm so glad that you guys are friends again. You two weren't even my friends, and I still felt lonely without you. It just feels...right." Jazz nodded, confirming her own diction. "Seeing you three together again just feels right. And Danny's been so much happier." If Jazz noticed her brother's blush, she didn't let on.

"You should probably eat, Sam. We only have twenty minutes left of break." Danny said, abruptly changed the topic. Sam played with the plastic box in her lap. Her appetite was practically nonexistent, but she should keep her energy up. She'll definitely need it.

Sam wordlessly pulled the lid back and stuck her fork into a green, leafy piece of lettuce. It was tasteless on her tongue. Her fork pushed around the pieces, moving them from pile to pile. Occasionally she stuck a tomato and lifted it to her lips. Sam frowned at a particular spinach leaf, its green form shaped like the curves of an almond-shaped eye. They reminded her of Valerie's eyes. What was left of her appetite vanished. She put the lid back on and shoved the box away, but the thought stuck with her.

The way Valerie had looked at her before the competition began. She hadn't said a word, but her eyes had made Sam feel...guilty. What had Sam done that had made Valerie's unwavering confidence, her infuriating smugness, suddenly disappear? They hadn't talked at all-the only people Sam had talked to were Tucker and Danny. Sam pushed the thought out of her mind; she had more important matters to mule over.

She pulled the salad back over and forced herself to eat, no matter how little her appetite was. Valerie had already polluted her good mood, and Sam refused to let the girl spoil her lunch too. She felt Danny's eyes on her, no doubt scrutinizing her odd behavior, but she didn't meet them.

"So, Danny, is anybody betting on me?" Tucker pried. Danny snorted.

"Your mother wouldn't even bet on you." Danny joked back, laughing as Tucker's hand flew to his heart in an expression of mock hurt.

"I don't know, honestly. I haven't been by the betting pools." His eyes shifted from Tucker to Sam. "But Sam seems to be a crowd favorite."

Sam felt her cheeks color slightly. It was strange. How could people call her a freak one day, and then cheer her name the next? Sam shook her head at her own thoughts.

 _"People are so easily influenced by a little entertainment."_

"-by the way." Sam blinked, realizing that Danny had been speaking to her.

"Sorry, what?"

"Star wanted to say hi. She came here to see you guys."

"Where is she then?"

"Uh, I think she's with Valerie right now." Danny said cautiously, watching Sam with a guarded expression. Was her disdain that obvious?

"Oh." Sam replied, stabbing another tomato with the prongs of her fork. She couldn't blame her; Valerie was Star's friend, just like she was. "I'll make sure to say hi next time I see her."

The two boys slumped in relief.

Sam only got two more forkfuls of salad in before the plastic box was taken from her lap and sealed up.

"Lunch time's over." Danny said, glancing at the clock. Sam mumbled a protest through her

mouthful of greens. "I told you to eat faster!" Danny chided, handing her a napkin while he tossed her lunch on the table out of her reach. Sam scowled and swallowed the rest of her food.

She stood, ignoring the sharp pain on her side. It faded after only a second. The medicine had finally kicked in, and just in time.

"Ready, Sam?" Tucker cheered. Of course he was all cheery- he had already finished his lunch and half of Danny's.

"Yeah." She said with significantly less enthusiasm. Tucker and Danny had already started out the door, discussing combat tactics and all that, but Jazz pulled Sam back with a gentle tug on her elbow.

"Sam, are you sure you're okay with this? I know that bruising in the ribs can be extremely painful, and if you aren't careful-"

"I know." Sam responded in the same hushed tone as the copper haired girl. Sam hastily glanced at the door. The boys were already gone. "But I've worked too hard for this. It means a lot to me, and if I drop out now I'll but letting a lot more people down than just myself."

Jazz was quiet, studying her with those bright, intelligent eyes. Sam wished she could see what was going on in that genius of a mind. Jazz finally nodded, still silent, and her hand dropped from Sam's arm just as the curious faces of Danny and Tucker peered around the corner.

"You coming?"

Sam nodded.

"Be careful," Jazz murmured, taking the ice pack from Sam's hands. Sam stepped towards the boy's smiles and headed out the door. She held Jazz's eyes for a second before the door swung closed behind her. _"I will be."_

They were at the gym door before she knew it. Sam gulped, waging war with the butterflies in her stomach. Tucker reached for the door, but Danny stopped, turning to Sam with a look that made her stop as well. His blue eyes seemed to stare past her face, like he could see her thoughts. Sam fought the urge to squirm.

Tucker raised his eyebrows at the two, sparkling eyes darting between them.

"I'm gonna go," he said, his voice brimming with laughter. "See you in there."

Tucker disappeared behind the door and Sam raised her eyebrows at the boy in front of her, who was still watching her in a way that made her want to blush, or squirm, or run away. Instead of doing any of those, she stood her ground and challenged him with the high arch of her eyebrow.

"You were really quiet walking over here." He said quietly.

"So?"  
"If you're still in pain, then I don't think this is a good idea."

"It's a perfectly fine idea that we have been planning for weeks."

Danny went quiet again, but his careful gaze dropped to her side. The pain seemed to grow with the attention. She suddenly wished for the icepack again.

"Jazz said it wasn't broken." He said thoughtfully, like he was talking to himself.

"It's not."

"But it could get worse." His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Sam wondered if he was actually hearing her responses, or if he was already lost in his own mind.

"Jazz said I should be fine. There's nothing to worry about."

Sam felt a twinge of guilt for lying to him, but what choice did she have? If Danny thought that she wasn't in good condition to finish the competition, he could easily disqualify her. The judges would listen to him, and if he didn't want her to continue, the judges would kick her out without a second thought.

It took a full ten seconds for Sam's commentary to catch up to his busy mind, and when her last note finally processed, Danny's eyes snapped to hers so sharply that she took a step back.

" _Jazz_ said that?"

"Um, yeah." Sam cursed the high pitch her voice. She had never been a good liar, especially to those who knew her well.

"Jazz is always over cautious. She panics when I come home with a scratch." His calculating eyes narrowed at her. "What did she say you had?"

"Just a little bit of bruising on my side." she squeaked.

"You could barely walk before I helped you up."

"I'm _fine_ , Danny. Really." Sam pleaded as the sound of mingled voices came from within the gym. She should be in there right now, getting ready for the last of the competition, but Danny was standing in between her and the door. "I have to go." She said, nudging past him. "I'll see you later." To her surprise, he didn't try to stop her. She glanced behind her shoulder to see him gone.

 _"He probably went to Jazz."_ Sam mentally groaned. Even if Jazz did lie on her behalf, the girl was just as terrible a liar as she was. Danny could be clueless sometimes, but he was not stupid. Sam just hoped that he would talk to her before he decided to force her out of the competition. She would kill him if he didn't.

"What was that about?"

She jumped at Tucker's voice, then smacked him for scaring her.

"Nothing. He just wanted to make sure I wasn't too hurt to continue."

"That's it?" Tucker sounded disappointed.

"Be quiet. It's starting." Sam nodded her head to Vlad, who stood with microphone in his hand. The music faded and his voice came through the speakers.

"I hope you all enjoyed your lunch. Competitors, ready and energized?"

 _"Not really."_ Sam thought.

"The next segment of our little competition will be hand to hand combat, as I said before. This skill is particularly useful if, say, a friend of yours was to be overshadowed by a ghost." Sam shivered at the thought. Tucker said that Poindexter had overshadowed her for a while. All she remembered was seeing her own reflection in the mirror before everything went black.

"-wouldn't you say?" Sam missed what he was saying, but she figured it was a joke because the audience laughed. "Well, let's not make our eager competitors wait any longer. The first fighters?" Vlad looked to the stands, where an alumni judge stood up with a notecard and a microphone.

"Kevin Miller and Mikey Lyle." The crowd cheered, and Mikey blanched.

"Oh, man. Poor Mikey." Tucker whispered in horror as the football jock made his way to the padded arena that had been set up on the gym floor.

Mikey, barely able to hide his trembling, slowly made his way to the padded arena and stood beside Kevin, who absolutely _towered_ over the small boy.

"No face shots, no groin shots, and the winner will be declared after he has pinned his opponent for five seconds. Are we clear?" the alumni judge asked. Both boys nodded, one smiling cockily and the other struggling to decide what to do with his glasses. They were fitted with soft helmets and gloves before taking opposite sides of the arena. The whistle blew, and Sam closed her eyes. Mikey didn't have much of a chance with no fighting experience, and not to mention, he could barely see without his glasses. Mikey could only dodge for so long before Kevin pinned him down and the match was called. The only ones cheering in the crowd were the football boys, and some of the cheerleaders.

"Next?" Vlad asked the announcer.

"Sarah Bailey and Samantha Manson."

" _Sam_." Said girl growled. She marched to the arena and fitted the tight boxing gloves. Sam wrinkled her nose. They smelled disgusting.

"Ready?" the announcer looked at the two of them, both clad in red and blue gear. Both girls nodded, and the sharp tweet of a whistle cut through the air.

Sarah threw the first punch, which Sam easily avoided. Sam dodged, ducked, and out maneuvered all her blows, and soon came to realize that Sarah was just throwing fists blindly. All Sam had to do was wait until she was tired, and then she could easily pin the girl. Sam could just as easily knock her down where she stood with a punch to the stomach, maybe kick out her legs, but Sam couldn't bring herself to do it.

The time came faster than Sam expected, and with no more than a minute under her belt, Sarah's breaths grew into heavy pants, and her once determined punches grew sloppy and slow. She threw a punch at Sam's torso, and instead of her usual dodge or block, Sam caught the girl's wrist. Sam's boot clipped the back of Sarah's knees and the girl fell on the mat. She didn't have time to register what happened before her own arm was pinned to her back.

The whistle blew and Sam released her grip of Sarah's wrist. To Sam's surprise, the girl actually accepted her hand to pull her up.

"That was a great effort, Sarah. Thank you for competing." the alumni announcer said, sounding like he was reading off a mental notecard of carefully practiced lines. Sarah nodded and made her way to the stands. "And congratulations, Samantha."

"It's Sam."

The young man cleared his throat. "Sam."

"Now we'll take a short break to ready our remaining contestants." Vlad told her audience. "Jim, want to tell us the next match?" The young man nodded, clearing his throat again.

"Tucker Foley and Kevin Miller will take the ring on one side, while Valerie Gray and Sam-" he glanced at the girl, who smiled at the preferred name, "-Manson will take the other side. Whoever falls out first will be eliminated, leaving our top three champions for this year's mission squad." Even the announcer's monotone voice couldn't dull that statement. The crowd cheered and money was passed around.

 _"Me and Valerie."_ Sam mused. She didn't quite know how to feel about that; sure, Sam had always wanted an excuse to punch the beautiful mocha skinned girl in the face, but she was already injured, and Valerie, she knew, was no joke. She would have to be careful fighting Valerie, and extremely careful to avoid her punches. She didn't want to see what would happen if Valerie's fist happened to connect with her ribs.

"Sam, did you see how fast Kevin took down Mikey? He _crushed_ him!" Tucker clutched at his old, weathered beret. "I don't want to be crushed, Sam! I wanna live."

"Calm down, Tuck," Sam chided. "He's not going to crush you."

"He's a giant."

"Maybe, but he's also slow-physically and mentally." Sam's dark purple eyes flitted to the jock's direction, where he was joking around with some of the other jocks, howling in laughter. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling. "He may have you beat in height and weight, but you've got speed, experience, and I hate to say it, but _somewhat_ of a brain." Sam clapped his shoulder (maybe a little too hard) and the boy stumbled forward. "You're telling me that you can take down ghosts with eight legs, but not one stupid, puppet-of-society jock?"

Tucker didn't respond, but a new light seemed to come into his eyes.

They spent the next few minutes going over fighting techniques that Danny, or Jazz, surprisingly, had taught them. Sam knew a few herself, having always been the one to defend both her and Tucker from the arrogant jocks of the school. Nevertheless, when the last four competitors were called back to the stage, she couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous. Most of the nerves were contributed to the steady ache clawing at her ribcage.

Sam raised her head high and stared Valerie down in defiance as they both pulled on their gloves and helmets. Valerie's eyes- _"like a salad leaf"_ -Sam had thought, never broke from Sam's gaze, radiating the same cool confidence that she usually wore, though the smug grin that Sam was used to was not apparent.

The mitt felt sweaty on Sam's hand, hot and dense. It seemed heavier than before, like it was weighing her down, and the soft head gear felt like a brick on the top of her head. The heavy muffs prevented her from hearing much but her own thoughts, and she kind of missed the low murmur of chatter from the crowd.

Despite the thick muffs that clouted her ears, the shrill sound of a whistle cut through them. In the corner of her eye, she saw Kevin already pouncing after Tucker, and she silently wished him luck. Some of that luck, she probably should have kept for herself.

Valerie and Sam circled each other, each waiting for the right opportunity. In the end, it was Valerie who struck the first blow.

Sam's arms came up in a cross, blocking the bright blue mitt from smacking her face.

 _"So much for no face shots."_ She supposed those were really only guidelines, anyway.

Sam went in for a left jab, which Valerie easily blocked, but Sam followed up with a right fist straight to the stomach. Valerie dodged, but not soon enough; her shoulders caved in slightly, but her fist lashed out just as fast and connected with Sam's shoulder. The punch was enough to throw the smaller girl back a few steps, and enough to make her side scream out.

She grit her teeth and forced her feet to move forward, back to Valerie. Her arms shook as she threw fist after fist in Valerie's direction, but they were blocked each time. Her blood felt thick and slow, like it was honey coursing through her veins. The pounding in her ribs made every breath a hoarse gasp, and soon her whole body seemed to vibrate with each breath.

Valerie's movements seemed too quick to follow. Sam could only watch through half-awake, blurry eyes as Valerie blocked her fists with ease. Sam felt the blows more than saw them-it felt like a rock was slamming against her shoulder, her stomach, her chest. Her body ached with the impact.

She couldn't hear the crowd over the pounding in her ear drums. Sam's heartbeat shook her whole body. The pain in her ribs had overcome the medicine, and she felt a thin veil of red around her whole body, thickening every second; she was hopelessly outmatched.

Her feet lifted off the ground as Valerie gripped Sam by the shirt of her suit and hauled her up.

"What is wrong with you, Manson?" her voice came in an angry snarl, but her eyes read real confusion. Sam grumbled, and her eyes finally started to focus. The toe of Sam's boot buried itself into Valerie's side, who howled and dropped Sam. The smaller girl's legs crumpled when she hit the ground, but she forced herself up. Her eyes darted to the other side of the arena for just a glimpse, a hope that her friend was doing a bit better than she was. To her dismay, she found Tucker in a similar position. A feral growl rose from the depths of Sam's throat. After all that hard work, this is what they had amounted to? Her anger burned against her cheeks.

Valerie and Sam stepped towards each other at the same time. Valerie's eyebrows lifted at Sam's sudden change of demeanor, and by the roar of the crowd, they had noticed it too. Valerie came at her, but this time, Sam was able to block her blows before they smashed against her. Well, most of them, at least.

Sam's fist collided with Valerie's collarbone and the girl stumbled back, needing to catch her breath before countering. Sam ducked under Valerie's swing and stood, propelling her own fist into Valerie's stomach as she went. Sam began to gain ground again, but at the same time, her lungs were beginning to heave with the need for bigger breaths, and each one sent fireworks of pain throughout her side. Her mind stopped comprehending, stopped thinking, and all she knew was punch, block, duck, kick. Her moment of winning was short-lived, as her slowing mind failed to notice that she could only see one of Valerie's hands. The other hand found its way to Sam's ribs, fitting snugly against the purple and blue skin. No amount of painkillers could mask that.

Sam's gasp echoed off the towering walls of the gym, and the audience grew silent as she crumpled. Sam only saw a blur of dark blue padding before her face collided with it. She could only hear the soft footsteps of Valerie's figure approaching, or maybe it was the beating of her own heart. Sam's arms were wrapped around her ribs, her breaths coming out as short, hiccupy gasps. The collar of Sam's shirt tugged against her throat as she was hauled up. Her eyes opened to see Valerie's brilliant green eyes staring back at her.

"You're better than this, Sam." she said quietly. Sam hissed at the pity in Valerie's voice. She forced one arm up and swung it at Valerie, who dropped her and stepped back to avoid it. When Sam's knees touched back on the ground, her form curling in on itself, she knew she wouldn't rise again.

A whistle blew and Vlad's voice bounced off the walls.

"Stop!"

Countless sets of eyes turned to Vlad as he strode briskly across the arena, and Sam's heart sank. He was coming for her, to take her out of the ring and declare victory. To declare that Sam had lost, and that she wasn't good enough to be apart of the team. Sam lowered her eyes as his shiny, pitch black shoes made their way towards her. She could hear his feet padding against the cushioned ground, growing closer, closer, and then farther away. Her eyes shot to him, and to her surprise, Sam found herself watching his back.

He wasn't coming towards her, no, he was going to Tucker and Kevin. The gym was eerily silent as Vlad stood in front of Kevin, who cowered at the billionaire's gaze. Sam's eyes flicked to Tucker, panting heavily, but still standing, and their eyes met. And he was just as surprised as she was.

Their eyes were drawn back to the billionaire when the crowd gasped. Vlad was holding Kevin's wrist in a deathgrip, forcing his arm up for the audience to see a thick, coppery band over the boy's fingers. Perhaps Kevin should have waited until _after_ the match to take off the gloves.

"Brass Knuckles?" Vlad's voice boomed, and Kevin winced.

"Uh, I, uh.." Kevin stuttered, his eyes searching everywhere but Mr. Master's stern face.

"Outside weapons were clearly prohibited in the rules of this competition."

Kevin paled. The jock was never a smart boy, but even he wasn't dumb enough to hope that this would end well for him. "These rules are not guidelines," Vlad spoke in a voice like thunder. "And _will_ be taken seriously. I'm sorry, Kevin," no one bothered to breathe as Vlad's gaze turned to the boy with the brass knuckles. His voice grew softer, but not by much. "but I have to disqualify you from this competition." Kevin slumped, muttering curses that no one else could hear. And Vlad, still gripping the shamed boy's wrist, scanned the remaining competitors. What might have been a smile curved his lips. "Tucker Foley, Samantha Manson, Valerie Grey, congratulations." Sam's heart beat a little faster, not quite believing what she was hearing. "We have our victors."

Sam slumped, and her sigh of relief was lost in the thunderous cheers of the crowd. The familiar cold washed over her once again, this time enveloping her whole body. She leaned into the icy hold.

"Sam, are you okay?" Danny's voice cracked, making it sound more like S- _am_. "I should have come earlier, but I was talking to Jazz, and if I intervened Vlad would have to disqualify you and I know this meant a lot to you, and.." Danny rambled, his voice going faster and higher which each word, like an auctioneer on helium.

"It's okay, Danny." She murmured quietly, hiding her face so that no one would see her talking to herself. She had enough unwanted attention already.

"Let's go." Danny sighed. His voice dropped down a few octaves to its usual pitch. "You need help." For once, Sam didn't have the energy to argue. She slowly stood with Danny's invisible aid on one side, and Tucker on the other. They didn't wait to hear the crowd chanting their names.

 **A/N: Next is the team mission where they're totally like Ghostbusters. Guys (and girls), if you're ever sad, just think of Team Phantom in GhostBusters' suits. So cute. Somebody should do a Ghostbusters-crossover-Danny Phantom thing. That would be hella cool. Wow, I get sidetracked really easily. So anyway, any ideas on what ghost they're gonna be busting? Predictions, advice, questions, love letters...I'd love to hear it all. Thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

Cold, dark, smelly, the occasional drip of water from a hole in the ceiling. Given the recent rain, and the building's decomposing state, Sam guessed that the constant dripping came from more than one source.

The air was thick and smoggy, so humid that it felt like her lungs were being doused in dirty mop water. It was enough to make her want to gag and cough at the same time, but to do either of those things would be to disturb the silence (aside from the pesky drip), and give away her location to something that had yet to make an appearance.

She buried a groan and reminded herself, not for the first time that night, that she had wanted to do this. Volunteered for it, trained for it, and finally got it. Now, sneaking around like a warehouse rat in the dead of night was definitely _not_ Sam Manson's idea of fun, but it was the prize she got for being a part of the winner's circle. And the price of being friends with Amity Park's top ghost-hunter/superhero.

Something awful smelling and cold splattered against her cheek (what, she didn't want to know) and she hastily wiped it off. Painfully aware of the mystery substance now smeared across her palm, Sam wondered again just what reasoning had crossed her mind when she decided to do this. Her eyes caught brilliant blue ones as Danny looked over his shoulder at her. Oh, right. She'd almost forgotten that Reason Number One walked a few feet in front of her.

He raised his eyebrows at her, a question as clear as it was silent, mostly because he had asked it more times than Sam could count.

" _Still okay?"_

Sam nodded her yes and fought the urge to roll her eyes. His concern was sweet, even though she'd told him to stop being concerned about two weeks ago. Danny wouldn't dare say it to her face, but Sam knew she was put in the safest position (behind Tucker and Danny, just in front of the lovely Valerie Gray) because he was still worried about her, even though she had reassured him countless times that the three weeks of rest had done wonders for her injured ribs. Sure, they still pinched if she laughed a little too hard, and parts of the skin were still mottled dark blue and lavender, but she was mostly healed.

Sam wrinkled her nose as an icy drop fell on it and trailed down her cheek. She seriously doubted that she would be laughing any time soon.

Something cold pressed against the middle of her back. Just a tap. With a quick glance she found it to be the muzzle of a gun, courtesy of Reason Number 2. Proving Valerie wrong had been a key point of motivation during her weeks of training, and in all that time, she had never stopped to think that Valerie could be in the winner's circle right next to her. Oh, and right behind her on the mission, of course. The muzzle pushed again, harder, her message as clear as Danny's raised eyebrows: _Keep walking._

She felt like a freaking prisoner, and if complete silence wasn't vital to the mission, Sam would have been happy to whip around and tell her that. Maybe show her what it felt like to be prodded by a gun every time she slowed down to step over rat dung or avoid a puddle.

Ahead of her, Tucker slowed to a stop as Danny held up a hand, his back to a stack of boxes piled high above their heads. He motioned them forward and the three crowded around him.

"I haven't picked up an ecto-signatures yet," though only a whisper, his voice sounded amplified by the quiet. "have you gotten anything?" he addressed all of them. Three heads shook their response. "I didn't think so." His eyes, darkened by shadows of the warehouse, left their faces to scan above them.

"We'll set up here for now." He nodded, agreeing with himself. "Wait until we get any ecto-signatures or other spooky signs. We should split into pairs and take rounds to make sure we don't miss anything." He waited for their nods before continuing, and smiled. "I was expecting someone to point out that that's how people in scary movies always die. Which is true, but we're not in a scary movie, and we all know what we're doing. Right?" Valerie donned her irritatingly familiar smirk and Tucker shrugged. Sam's face was too numb to feel at that point, but she was sure she smiled.

"Okay." Danny said with a smile that Sam knew was much more lively than hers. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Tucker set up the cameras that were supposed to pick up any paranormal activity, along with several other devices that the rest of them couldn't make heads or tails of. Tucker deemed them absolutely necessary to their cause, and no one argued with him. The rest of them watched with muted curiosity as he worked, since Tucker wanted to set them up by himself, "cause, you know, Sam always gets smudges on the lenses and Danny drops freaking everything." Sam figured the both of them would have been more offended if they hadn't been so tired. Well, _she_ was tired. Danny seemed more stir crazy than anything, probably because his missions don't take half as long when he's in Phantom form. The price you pay for being alive.

"Tucker, time?" Danny asked. Tucker paused cleaning the lenses of the cameras long enough to glance at his PDA.

"3-ish."

"Good." Danny stood, bounced on his toes, and wiped the dust off his jeans. "The most common sighting of our warehouse ghost is three to four a.m., so we should take another round about now."

Sam stood with him. She had to stomp her feet a little to make the tingling sensation in her soles go away. She vaguely wondered if they really should make another round or if Danny just wanted to keep his legs from falling asleep.

"Fenton phones?"

"Check."

"Ready to go."

"You know it, bro."

"Good. Tucker, you want to stay watch the stuff and monitor the, uh, whatever you called it?"

Tucker just sighed and nodded.

"Cool, and-"

"I'll come with you." Sam cut in. Danny held her gaze for a second, long enough to make Sam worry that he was going to tell her to stay back and watch the stuff. He would have to tie her down if that were the case, because her legs were tingling and her butt was aching from sitting on the cold cement, and she was not staying behind. Fortunately, no rope was necessary.

"Okay. Val, can you stay with Tucker?" It was more of an order than a question. The girl nodded, though she didn't look too happy about it. Tucker was too involved in his PDA, doing whatever it was he did, to notice his brooding companion. Sam guessed that was for the best.

"Be careful, Tuck." Sam joked to Tucker as she and Danny started past.

"Don't worry, no ghost is getting past these babies." Tucker said, grinning as he held up a few of his gadgets.

"It's not the ghost I'm worried about."

Her eyes darted to Valerie, who's sharp emerald eyes stared coldly back at her. By that look, Sam guessed she caught the joke. Sam gave Tucker a quick departing smile before following Danny's lead, out into the cold halls of the warehouse.

"This place really is a dump." Sam muttered, recoiling at the musty smell that wafted from the ancient water stains on the walls. As if the drab cement walls weren't fun enough. The only light came from a broken window, an open portal to shine of the moon and the bitter wind outside. With light came shadows-writhing, black creatures that danced against the blank walls. Sam almost expected them to reach out and grab her ankles as she walked past.

"It's been abandoned for a while. You read the report, right?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. A new company wants to buy this place, but they won't move in until the ghost is gone." She hopscotched over a puddle, dyed an inky black with shadow. "Wise choice."

Danny chuckled, and for a few seconds, the sound covered up the drip of rusty water and Sam forgot she was in dusty, rat filled warehouse full of water stains, and apparently, ghosts. And then she tripped over a gray rock, which happened to be the same dull gray color as the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and pretty much everything else. Only the moving boxes were anything but gray, and even those were just varying shades of decaying brown. Sam did a double take when her eyes grazed upon some lick of color.

A yellow sign, though faded, was at least a change from gray and cardboard.

"BEWARE OF"

The rest of the sign was coated in a layer of dust. Sam scraped her finger across it, and the dust slid off in charcoal waterfalls.

"Beware of falling boxes." Danny's voice made her jump. His footsteps were so damn quiet, she could never hear him coming. As if being in a creepy, haunted warehouse wasn't enough, she didn't need him sneaking up on her all the time. Someday she was going to tie bells to his feet. "I heard our ghost's dead body was found under a pile of boxes."

"That's great, Danny." Sam said sarcastically. "Shouldn't you be like, scouting for the ghost or something?" Sam stepped away from the sign and the thought of dead bodies, shaking the dust off her shoes. It fell off in torrents.

"I would know if he was here."

"Then why are we taking our rounds if you know he's not here?"

"Cause he could show up in any room at any moment." Danny grinned at her. "And my legs were falling asleep just sitting back there."

"I _knew_ it."

A blue wisp slithered past Danny's lips when he smiled.

"Ghost?" her foot froze midair as Danny stopped and glanced around, eyes narrowed at the gray expanse of the crumbling warehouse.

"Probably our guy."

Sam's fingers tightened against the cool grip of her gun.

"Tucker?" Danny touched the earpiece of his Fenton Phone and spoke into the tiny microphone. "I'm..uh, picking up a signature. Are you getting anything?" Sam leaned closer, but still couldn't hear Tucker's response. "No, that's probably a good thing...yeah...he's not too powerful, then..." He glared over his shoulder at the empty hallway, then his eyes darted quickly to Sam and then back to the hall. "Yeah, she's with me...Be alert, okay...okay." Danny laughed, a warm, deep laugh that was extremely out of place in the freezing, dreary warehouse of creepiness.

"I will." His finger dropped from the earpiece and he turned back to Sam, who was watching him with raised eyebrows. "The good news is that Tucker isn't picking up a reading, so the ghost isn't very powerful, or his signature would be noticeable throughout the whole building."

Danny picked up his pace again and Sam fell in step next to him. The moonlight hit the top of his hair, turning the black into strands of silver. She remembered that sometimes _all_ his hair was a silky silver, and wondered how no one had noticed the similarities between Fenton and Phantom. But she hadn't exactly picked up on it either.

Sam gasped as her foot fell through empty air, and so would've the rest of her, if Danny hadn't caught her.

"That's a pretty stupid place to put a staircase." Danny mumbled in her ear.

"The architect that designed this place is a dumbass." Sam barked at the narrow walls and steep steps. Danny laughed, and the joyful sound bounced off the smothering walls of the corridor. Each echo grew deeper in sound, colder in tone, until it became a sinister murmur. Sam felt a chill tickle her spine.

The pocket on her hip vibrated as the Ghost Detector went off. They were getting closer. Sam swallowed the lump in her throat.

Dust shimmered up into the air like a curtain as Danny stepped down onto the first step. Sam coughed and swatted at the cloud like flies, but that didn't stop it from layering on her face, and shoulders, and, well, everything. Out of the haze popped a hand, beckoning to her with an open palm. She took it into a firm grip and forced her foot forward. She couldn't even see where the step was, the dust was so thick, but she had a guess where it _should_ be.

She didn't let go of Danny's hand until the last of the steps fell behind her, and the chilling echo of her coughs had faded away.

They descended into darkness, and for a second, Sam's heart stopped when she lost sight of Danny, his figure consumed by the inky room. Her hand grasped at empty air in hope to find his again. She knew he was still there; she could hear the faint sigh of his breaths, and the shuffling of his feet against the concrete. Which was strange, considering his footsteps had always been so silent before.

The Ghost Detector on her hip was buzzing like it contained a swarm of angry bees. Her heart tottered between beating at two hundred miles per hour and not beating at all. It decided to stop beating entirely when a green glow lit up the room. Her heart only began it's slow pound again when Danny's face came into view, delicately lit in shades of green by the glowing orb in his palm. It danced in his eyes like green fire, tinting his cheeks a soft spring color. Supernaturally beautiful.

"Sam, you might want to get out your flashlight." He advised calmly. Another sliver of blue escaped from his mouth.

"Right." She whispered. She dug the small flashlight from her weapons belt and clicked it on. The green faded, and the room was bathed in the soft yellow hue of an old flashlight. It was dim, but just enough to bring small sections of the drafty room into view. Sam flicked the light in each direction; it fell upon stacks of boxes, heaps of cardboard, boxes, boxes, boxes.

"Do you hear that?" Danny whispered. Sam stopped breathing, tilting her head forward to catch any sound. Shuffling-the same sound she had mistaken for Danny's footsteps. Except it was still going on, and neither of them were taking any steps.

Sam bit down on her lip until a coppery taste touched her tongue. She clutched the flashlight with white knuckles. Danny jerked his chin to a stack of boxes in front of them that rose far above their heads. Sam snapped the beam of the flashlight to the precariously teetering pile.

"Tucker, you there?" She heard Danny whisper into his headpiece. Sam clicked off the Ghost Detector, tired of the persistent buzzing that was beginning to make her hip ache. "Yeah, we've got something."

Sam crept slowly towards the boxes as Danny gave Tucker directions and warned him about the staircase that nearly sent Sam tumbling to her doom.

The flashlight danced on the face of the cardboard, the light trembling along with Sam's hand. Her other hand was firmly wrapped around the grip of her ectogun. She stopped there, close enough to the boxes to touch them, and glance back at Danny. He smiled.

" _This is your mission,"_ Sam read the thought in his eyes. _"You do something."_

She bit back a growl at his silent retort. He really wasn't supposed to do anything but observe and ensure their safety. Still, she would have liked a little input from her team leader.

Sam stared at the boxes furiously. The shuffling had stopped, but that had only made her more uneasy. She hated being scared, and she would not, _could_ not, let a few measly boxes scare her. Nothing scares Sam Manson. Her frustration formed in the toe of her foot, and with a swift but powerful kick, the teetering boxes came tumbling down.

She covered her head as they came raining down from all sides, filling half the room with a cloud of dust. Sam stumbled back, hacking in the dust that stung her eyes and lungs. Through blurry eyes, Sam aimed the gun at the crumbled pile of cardboard that used to be a tower of boxes. She held her breath, waiting, watching.

For a moment, everything was still until out of the pile emerged dozens of scrambling, tiny bodies. The poured over the heap and scattered, their black figures leaving tiny footprints in the dust. Sam gasped in disgust as they swarmed over her shoes. Rats.

"Rats?" Sam cried out, turning to Danny in awe. He was dancing an Irish jig to keep the rats from gnawing on his shoes. He didn't notice the box flying at him until it crashed against the back of his head. Sam's flashlight shot towards the direction the box came from, but she was just a second to late. A second box smacked into her with enough force to knock her on her butt. The flashlight skittered across the cement, beyond her reach.

Her eyes popped open just in time to see another box, large enough to hold a refrigerator racing towards her. She somersaulted and leaped to her feet, the wrist ray already charged up and ready to shoot.

"Who are you?" Sam shouted. Of course, she didn't expect an answer. Ghosts, as far as she knew, were never up for friendly introductions. Apparently, this ghost didn't know that.

"Beware!"

The remaining boxes topsided as an overweight ghosts in overalls jumped from the rubble and floated in the open air, paying no heed to the charged weapons pointed right at him. "For I am the Box Ghost!"

"I'm Danny. And this is Sam." Danny announced with a casual tone that did not belong in the middle of a ghost fight. He glanced at his goth partner with an easy smile. "Sam?"

The poor ghost didn't know what hit him. For the record, it was a marble sized ectoblast that packed quite a punch for it's tiny frame. The light blue ghost hit the ground with a thud and rolled into a cardboard palace.

"This is seems a little anticlimactic, don't you think?" Sam peeked at Danny from under her messy bangs. The ghost only groaned as Sam uncapped her thermos.

"Sometimes they go like that." he shrugged. "Too bad Tuck and Valerie couldn't help." He covered his mouth as another blue wisp emerged.

Sam aimed the thermos and a blue light poured out, washing out the Box Ghost's figure in a flash. She could only see his beady eyes as the ghost swirled into the thermos, and if luck was on her side, she would be done for the night and head home. Unfortunately, luck didn't seem to like her much.

One second, Sam was grinning at the blue swirl of her thermos, and the next second she was smashed between the cold cement floor and Danny's body. The tower of boxes behind her went up in blue flames.

"Get cover!" Danny shouted as he hauled Sam to her feet. Sam obeyed, pulling him with her to duck behind a corner.

"What's happening?" Sam hissed. She peeked around the corner, but was forced back, partially by Danny and partially by the strum of an electric guitar that was loud enough to make her ears hurt.

"Another ghost." Danny cursed. "What is _she_ doing here?" he muttered under his breath.

"She?"

"I could go ghost, but.." He shook his head, lost in his own thoughts.

"Don't think you can hide from me, Dipstick!"

Sam's head snapped to the familiar voice, though she couldn't place why it was so familiar. She didn't need to wonder very long. The smoldering boxes collapsed into ashes, and floating behind the glowing pile was a face that Sam had seen far too many times on posters and album covers.

"Ember McClain?" If Sam's jaw hadn't been attached to her face by bone and sinew, it would have fallen straight to the floor.

"This is so not good." Danny groaned.

"Remember me, Babypop?" The turquoise-haired girl snarled. Her black gloved fingers raced down the guitar strings. Sam and Danny ducked for cover as the sound wave toppled the boxes in front of them.

"I'm guessing this is really bad." Sam whispered to him. Behind her, a voice interrupted Danny's response.

"I, the Box Ghost, have escaped from your cylindrical prison! Now face my boxed up fury!"

"And it just got worse.." Danny muttered.


	17. Chapter 17

"Ember McClain?" If Sam's jaw hadn't been attached to her face by bone and sinew, it would have fallen straight to the floor.

"This is so not good." Danny groaned.

"Remember me, Babypop?" The turquoise-haired girl snarled. Her black gloved fingers raced down the guitar strings. Sam and Danny ducked for cover as the sound wave toppled the boxes in front of them.

"I'm guessing this is really bad." Sam whispered to him. Behind her, a voice interrupted Danny's response.

"I, the Box Ghost, have escaped from your cylindrical prison! Now face my boxed up fury!"

"Yeah. And it just got worse.." Danny muttered. "You take care of the Box Ghost, and I'll worry about Ember."

Sam nodded and followed the chants of the ghost in overalls. The second she saw him, her wrist wray was already firing. Two shots sent him flying into Ember, who was not very happy to be interrupted from her rampage by a fat ghost in overalls.

"Box Ghost? Get out out here!" the pop star shrieked. The toe of her boot (which Sam had to admit was very fashionable) buried itself in Boxy's behind. Sam almost felt bad for him as he smashed face-first into the wall. But that small twinge of guilt didn't keep her from sucking him back into the thermos, capping it tightly, and making sure that the release switch wasn't on. Couldn't have him escaping again, even if he was more of a nuisance than anything.

Sam dropped to her knees as a glowing music note swept over her head and crashed into the wall behind her.

"Sam?" Tucker chirped through her earpiece.

"Tucker, hi." Sam replied breathlessly, still on her knees. She could only see flashes of color through the maze of boxes, and the voices of Ember and Danny were moving too much for her to pinpoint where they were.

"We're coming down the stairs. I heard a crash, are you guy's okay? Danny isn't answering."

"He's a little busy right now." Sam dared to rise from her crouch and scan over the boxes. If she couldn't get to Danny, she could at least meet Tucker before he fell right into the middle of the mess. "I'll meet you by the stairs. There's two ghosts now-no, one. I caught the other one."

"Really! Nice going, Sam! Wha-"

Sam leaped out of the way of a falling wooden beam, rotted by termites and time. It splintered into pieces when it hit the ground. Sam guessed she would have to be picking little wood shards out of her suit when she finished that mission, but that was a worry for another time.

"See you...in..a sec, Tuck." She gasped in between breaths. In a half-crouched run, she navigated the cardboard labyrinth, only stopping for a breath when her feet found the base of the stairwell. And not a second too late. Tucker and Valerie peeled out of the darkness and almost ran straight into her.

"Sam!" Tucker gasped, catching her by the shoulders to keep himself from falling.

"Tucker, Valerie, we caught the original ghost, but another one showed up." Sam tossed a quick glance over her shoulder, where blasts of blue and green lit up the gloomy building like fireworks. "And she seems to be really powerful."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Valerie pushed past her, fingers already twitching over the trigger of her gun. She didn't wait for the others.

"Valerie! Hold on!" Sam hissed, but the girl had already disappeared into the maze. "You've got to be kidding me.." Sam muttered. Tucker followed behind her as they took off after the trigger happy huntress.

The ectoblasts were bright enough to light up the whole room. It reminded Sam of a rave, neon lights flashing to the beat of booming music. Except the booming music was replaced with angry shrieks and crashes.

"There she is!" Sam pointed her wrist wray at the flaming haired singer, who was floating high above the boxes and strumming her guitar. Between the screaming and the rave lights, she wasn't very hard to find.

"No way." Tucker stopped in his tracks, nearly making Sam smack into him. "Is that...EMBER MCCLAIN?"

Intentionally or not, Tucker caught his idol's attention. Sam only had time to shoot a few blasts from her wrist wray and drag Tucker out of the line of fire before fiery music notes, as blue as Ember's hair, crashed into the box towers next to them.

"Ember's a ghost?" Tucker cried.

"A ghost that's trying to kill us."

Sam clapped her hand over Tucker's mouth as Danny appeared. She almost shot him.

"Ember is really powerful. She might be-"

"GET BACK HERE SO I CAN DESTROY YOU, DIPSTICK!"

"-a little bit too much for you guys to handle."

"We're not going to leave you, if that's what you're suggesting." Sam scoffed. She would rather battle the grim reaper himself than leave him, no matter how angry that fiery haired popstar was.

"I don't know." Danny frowned, glancing over his shoulder as another pile of discarded boxes had the misfortune of being engulfed in blue flames. The light of the flames turned his face a soft shade of turquoise. It almost matched his eyes. "This would be a lot easier if I was in Phantom form, but with Valerie here...I don't know who she would shoot at. She isn't exactly a fan."

"Don't worry about us, man. We're staying." Tucker pushed his beret tighter on his head. "This is what we've been training for-right, Sam?"

"Right."

Despite the brave words, they both still jumped when Valerie pressed her back against the box next to them.

"Danny, are we gonna take this ghost down or what?"

Danny looked between the three of them, studying each of their faces before answering. Sam wondered what was going through his head as he frowned at her.

"By the way, she's lighting up everything that we could use for cover. She's going to get to us eventually and light us on fire." Valerie warned as she peeked over the top of the box.

"Okay..." Danny muttered after considerable hesitation. His eyes darted between them and the glowing aura that was Ember McClain, back and forth, until he finally settled on them. "So here's the plan..."

* * *

Sam held her breath until her lungs ached. Her eyes pleaded to peek over the shelter and see what was going on, but the logical part of her brain warned that that was not a good idea.

 _"Wait your turn,"_ She reminded herself when the curiosity picked at the less logical part of her brain, _"stick to the plan."_

The plan was simple, as simple solutions are often the wisest, but the plan also called for a patience that Sam didn't possess.

Her bottom lip had been chewed raw by the time Ember belted out a triumphant shout. Sam ducked even lower behind her shelter as the walls glowed blue with fire and the strum of her guitar shook the building. Sam had to cover her mouth to keep from coughing as dust particles and debris rained down from the ceiling. Her eyes met Tucker's silently, and she wondered if her eyes bore the same determination, or if her lips had also been set in a firm line. She had known Tucker long enough to see the trickle of fear behind the hard, green surface of his eyes, but that fear would never be enough to make him give in. He'd always been the loyal one. He had never lost faith in his old friend, even when Sam had. When it had been easier for Sam to blame Danny than to blame herself, Tucker never did. Sam smiled at the boy. Even now, with shrieking ghosts, flames, and music even too loud for Sam's liking, Tucker's faith was still unwavering. Sam imagined there is something to be said in that.

Another crash, and Tucker was already darting from their shelter, using the shadows of the boxes to hide him. Sam squinted and turned away as a flash of blue lit up the space between them. By the time Sam could blink the bright turquoise stars out of her eyes, Tucker was already long gone. Not too long after, Sam's Fenton phone chirped in her ear.

"Ready." Tucker's voice came through the receiver.

"And Valerie?" Sam had to bite down another cough as dust poured down on her.

"Ready."

"Now it's just up to Danny." Sam muttered into her speaker. She wiggled her toes, which had passed on from cramps to numbness by then, and swallowed her fear. With phase one and two complete, things should be picking up very quickly now. Danny had distracted Ember, phase one. Tucker and Valerie had moved into place, phase two. Phase three, well, she hoped that one went as smoothly as the first two.

"Danny," Tucker said into his Fenton phone. "I'm ready."

"Ready." Valerie said. Sam balled her clammy hands. Her fingers ached, as they sometimes did when she was nervous. They did that ever since Poindexter had broken them, with the help of a locker, of course. She flexed her fingers, remembering a time when he had been her biggest concern. That seemed so long ago now.

"Ready." she said, pushing the thought of Poindexter and broken fingers out of her mind.

Danny didn't respond, but they all knew he heard. The lights grew gradually brighter, the shouts steadily louder until Sam stared up to see the glowing pop icon right above her. Sam held her breath, though Ember was too distracted by a bright white flash to notice the silent girl crouching below her. The same bright flash that transformed Danny into Phantom, or in this instance, Phantom back into Danny.

Sam studied the ghostly pop star's face, which she imagined was a very beautiful one when Ember was still alive. She could still be considered beautiful, if her anger hadn't clouded every feature. For a second, the angry lines of her face disappeared and were replaced by raised eyebrows and parted lips, which quickly turned into a smug smile.

"Giving up already, baby?" Then her laughter filled the abandoned warehouse. "You don't think that little gun will hurt _me_ , do you?"

"No," Danny responded in a playful tone. Sam bit her lip. He was just on the other side of the box that sheltered her. "But four of them will."

That was her cue.

Sam shot up before the rock in her stomach could weigh her down and took aim. From their positions, Tucker and Valerie did the same. Ember's eyes could only widen in shock as they leaped from their shelters to form a circle around her. She didn't even have time to strum her guitar as four guns, (well, three guns and a wrist wray) fired at the same time.

Ember screamed, a terrible scream, and fell from the sky with limp limbs, her fiery hair only a tiny ponytail compared to the huge flame it was only a few seconds before. Danny's glowing net caught her before she could smack into the cold concrete floor. A mercy that only Danny would be kind enough to think of. But mercies aside, Danny still had the thermos trained on Ember by the time she opened her eyes. Sam expected her to thrash against the net, or at least scream half of the obscene names she had called him earlier, but Ember just stared back at him with cold eyes.

Danny frowned, his eyebrows coming together as they usually did when he was confused. He didn't lower the thermos, but he didn't uncap it either, as if he was waiting for her to say something. When she finally did speak, Danny's confused expression spread to all of their faces.

"So now what? You send me back again?" Ember shook as she said it, her whole body trembling with..anger? Pain? It was impossible to tell. A wispy strand of blue hair vanished, evaporating into the air. "I can't tell if you're cruel, or if you're just as brainwashed as they are."

Danny frowned at her and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Ember's gaze fell to the guitar that lay discarded on a pile of boxes. Sam tensed, raising her blaster just in case she made a leap for it, but Ember just slumped against the net and stared at the ripped fabric on her knees. That, in a way, made Sam even more uneasy than if she had jumped for the guitar. Ember didn't seem like the kind to sit down and surrender. She had to be up to something.

Danny's eyes narrowed at her, as if he was thinking the same thing. His mouth switched between a frown and parted lips several times, as if he was debated whether he should play her game or not. In the end, it was his curiosity that won over his logic.

"Who's brainwashed?"

Ember's eyes snapped to him as soon as the words left his mouth, her hair growing back into a flame that licked at the neon fibers of the net.

"Like you don't know." She sneered at him. A chill ran down Sam's spine as Ember's toxic green eyes sprung to hers. Sam was transfixed by the fire in them, a fire that raged even more than her hair.

"If you knew who he worked for," Ember's cheeks flushed a furious green. "What he does, you would hate him as much as I do."

Sam blinked, her mouth falling open on its own will. Ember's eyes were back on Danny so fast that Sam almost thought she had imagined the comment, but the equally shocked expressions on Valerie and Tucker's face told her it wasn't just a daydream.

"You say that you protect these people, but I know better." she spat, her fingers curled around the glowing strands of the ghost net. "You're just as bad as he is!" Ember snarled. Her hair shot through the net like a great wave of blue.

"What are you talking about?" Danny's fingers tightened on the cap of the thermos.

"I'm not stupid, _Danny_ ," she hissed his name like it was a curse. "I know you're working for Plasmius. And you can't be stupid enough to believe that ghosts are the only ones he's keeping prisoner."

The only color remaining in Danny's pale face was his bright blue eyes, widened to the size of quarters, and red lips that fluttered wordlessly.

"Danny, what is she talking about?" Valerie shouted over the muzzle of her gun, which was still pointed at Ember's chest.

"I-I don't know."

" _Liar_!" Ember screamed, pressing her face against the net. She tore at it with her hands until her fingertips bled green. Her hair stabbed through the holes in the net, so bright it washed out any inkling of shadow. "You think you're some kind of _hero_?" She cried, a hysterical shriek that seemed to echo off the concrete walls. "You're the worst one of them all! Don't act like you don't know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" Danny stepped closer, so close that if Ember reached out her black-gloved hands, now splattered with green blood, she could grab him. Sam's finger hovered above the trigger, fearing exactly that.

"You're working for that _bastard_!" A trickle of green fell from Ember's finger and onto her torn black pants. The net dug deeper against her shaking fingers, spilling more and more green as she pressed against it. "You're heartless already, imprisoning ghosts like criminals. Brainwashed slaves-"

"Ember, I don't-"

"But that's not enough, is it?" Ember cried. Ectoplasm dripped from her split lip. The fire in her eyes had spun out of control, a crazed flame that would destroy everything in its path, if it were to be released. Passionate and furious. Dangerous. " _IS_ it?" The whole building shook with the rage in her voice. "How can you call yourself a human, even _half_ ," she spat the word like it was a disgrace, "when you're keeping _people_ trapped there? The same people you swear to protect!" Ember's face glowed a bright green, a shocking contrast to Danny's deathly pale face. His eyebrows had nearly disappeared behind his mess of raven hair, and his eyes had grown wide enough to occupy the open space where they had been. "Liar, hypocrite-what a hero!" Ember's flaming hair had swept through the net and glowed so fiercely that her captors had to shield their eyes.

"Go ahead and hand me back to that monster you call boss. I'll be back, _Dipstick_ , and WHEN I DO-"

Ember's hoarse voice cut off abruptly, leaving nothing but silence. Sam's eyes fluttered open to see an empty net, two slack-jawed ghost hunters, and Tucker putting the cap back on his thermos. He stuck the thermos on his belt and nodded, his lips pressed in a firm line.

"Danny, I don't know what she was saying, but..." Tucker shook his head, and for the first time, Sam saw doubt in his eyes.

"Danny, tell me you're _not_ working with a ghost." Valerie fumed, her eyes glinting like jade daggers. Danny stepped back and raised his hands in surrender.

"I don't know what she's talking about, Val."

"Who's Plasmius, then?" Valerie said accusingly. Three sets of eyes turned towards Danny.

"He-he's..a ghost. Kind of, but what Ember said doesn't make any sense." he shook his head. His face was so pale, he looked more like a ghost now than he ever had in phantom form. "If a ghost was...capturing people, like she said, I would know about it."

"Ember seems to agree." Valerie said, dangerously calm. Sam noticed the huntress' fingers grow taught around the handle of the gun. Her heart started to hammer against her ribs.

"Look, Valerie, I'm sure there's an explanation for all of this." Sam took a step towards Valerie with her open hand raised in a gesture of peace. "Let's just put the gun down, okay?" Valerie's sharp gaze flicked to Sam, and for a second, Sam thought she was going to have to dive for cover. To her surprise, Valerie let the gun fall from her grasp and clatter against the cement.

No one moved for a long moment, and the only sound was the wind howling through the holes in the roof and the fading echo of the gun clattering against concrete. Sam glanced at Danny over her shoulder and read the silent "thank you" in his eyes. She gulped and tried to ignore the fluttering of her heart, flying around like a bird stuck in a cage.

"I wasn't going to shoot your boyfriend." Valerie remarked bitterly. Sam felt a wave of color rush to her cheeks.

"What makes you think-" she protested, only to be cut off by the green-eyed huntress.

"I have eyes, _Samantha,_ and you don't hide it very well." Sam was embarrassed at the relief she felt when Valerie flicked her accusing gaze over to the empty wall instead of on her. "Don't look so shocked. You two were pretty much flaunting it at the competition. Sneaking off together, smiling at each other. You would have to be an idiot not to notice."

The color spread to her whole face. That couldn't be why Valerie had been so..cold during the competition? Even more so than usual. A faint memory flickered to mind, of shimmering green eyes, careful glances, and shy smiles. That couldn't be the same huntress standing before her now, could it? Her stomach twisted into a knot.

Valerie pushed Tucker out of the way, marched up to Danny and stopped less than an arm's length away.

"Are you going to give us some answers, or are we just going to wander around this dump all night?" She huffed.

"Uh.." he stuttered. His wide eyes flickered to Sam, then to Tucker, to the wall, and to anything but Valerie's glaring gaze. Tucker, the loyal spirit he was, cleared his throat and stepped in between them.

"Valerie, I don't think there's anything to explain." Danny took his intrusions as an excuse to take a few big steps back from the brooding girl. "We all know Danny. He couldn't have done any of those things that Ember accused him of. Right, bro?"

"Uh, yeah." Danny nodded vigorously.

"She was just waiting for us to let our guard down so that she could escape." Tucker nodded at his own reasoning.

"You're probably right." Valerie muttered after a moment. Sam's chest collapsed with a heavy breath as Valerie's gaze fell to the dust covering her shoes. "Sorry, Danny."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, still avoiding Valerie's cutting green eyes. "It-it's fine. Just a misunderstanding."

Valerie nodded. Tucker cleared his throat three times. Sam shifted her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. Something just didn't sit right with her. If Ember had just been buying time to escape, then why hadn't she? Danny had lowered the thermos, and he was the only one that Ember seemed concerned about, so why didn't she take the chance while she had it?

Sam felt a lump grow in her throat, remembering how pale Danny got when she mentioned Plasmius. Her violet eyes darted to the boy, whose color still hadn't returned.

 _"She couldn't be telling the truth, could she?"_ As if he could feel her eyes on him, Danny glanced at her and quickly averted his eyes. _"He would never do something like that."_ Sam shook her head, clearing the ridiculous thought. Danny was a hero-and a good one at that. He'd spent every day since the accident doing everything he could to protect his city and the citizens of Amity. _"Ember's full of it."_ she decided. She wondered if Ember really believed everything she said, or if it was just another one of her performances. She was a popstar, after all, and wasn't it all about the show? Still, Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. _Very_ wrong. And by the look on Danny's face, he seemed to agree. The three of them barely said a thing as they packed up their bags and left the crumbling warehouse behind them.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hello! Sorry I've been slacking on the updates. I'm sure you've heard all the excuses, so I'm not going to bother. I'm just going to say thank you for reading and waiting for me to get my act together. I hope the wait is worth it.**

Growing up in the second wealthiest family in Amity Park, Sam was no stranger to fancy banquets, butlers in Tuxedos, and tinkling wine glasses, but not even she had experienced something so lavish. The dining table was long enough to easily fit Sam's entire family (including 3rd cousins and _all_ their children). At the moment, however, the mahogany and ivory traced table only seated a handful of people. Sam had always preferred smaller parties to her parents extravagant galas, unless, of course, two of that handful of people were her parents. Seated to the left of her, Sam's parents laughed at whatever Mr. Masters said, which Sam couldn't hear over her own thoughts, and gingerly sipped at their sparkling wineglasses. Her only relief from their presence was her dear, sweet grandmother seated to the right of her at Vlad Master's dining room table.

"Your mother laughs like a finely groomed horse." the elderly woman cackled in Sam's ear. Sam choked on the water she was nursing. She slammed the glass down on the table a bit more harshly than she intended, and her grandmother howled in laughter as Jeremy and Pamela Manson shot their daughter a look that could have been stolen from Medusa.

"Be a lady, Sam," her Grandma joked, "you never know who's watching." she whispered the last part, jabbing Sam in the side with her elbow. Sam quirked her eyebrows at the older Manson, who's violet eyes, much like Sam's own, twinkled back at her with the mischievous glint of a child. Ida Manson's eyes flicked not-so-subtly to the boy seated opposite of Sam.

" _Grandma!_ " Sam hissed in a hushed voice.

"What?" she inquired innocently, and unfortunately, loud enough to steal the same boy's attention. She took a quick peek at him over her glasses before turning back to Sam and leaning in close. "You know, he really has-"

"grown into a nice young man. I know, Gram. You've mentioned that five times already."

"A _handsome_ young man." Grandma Manson corrected. Sam blushed and stole a glance at Danny.

 _"Well, she's not wrong,"_ Sam thought, wondering if he had specifically chosen that baby blue tie to match with his eyes. Or more reasonably, if _Vlad_ had specifically chosen that baby blue tie to match with his eyes. _"But I really hope he didn't hear that."_

Thankfully, her grandma had the sense to whisper her comment, and also thankfully, Danny seemed too distracted by his own thoughts to hear it. She frowned. He should be enjoying their celebratory dinner, but despite the sparkling drinks and decadent dishes, his expression would have been the same if he had just been stuck with the job of being the Nasty Burger's mascot. The guy that ambled around in the robot-like suit and was constantly getting kicked around. Yeah, _him_. And Sam knew that face well, because that was the exact face she wore while attending her parents' parties, though she doubted her version of the face was quite as cute.

"You're staring, Sammy."

Sam instantly grew rosy cheeked at her grandma's teasing tone.

"No I wasn't"

She hissed, once again, much louder than she intended. This time, it caught Danny's attention, as well as Tucker's, and his parents, and _her_ parents, too. Her face took on the color of a tomato as her Grandmother laughed out loud. Ignoring the Medusa stares from her parents, Sam smiled at Danny with her most we-totally-weren't-talking-about-you smiles. For the first time that night, she saw him smile back. The moment was short lived, though, as Danny's gaze flew back to Mr. Masters the second the billionaire opened his mouth. His smile fell the exact same instant, and by that carefully keen glint in his eye, she figured it wasn't a coincidence.

He'd been like that all night, as far as she could tell. This dinner was supposed to be for _him,_ and the team he led to a victorious mission, but rather that reveling in the glory of it all, he had hardly said a word. He wasn't an overly loud person to begin with, but she expected at least a genuine smile every once in while. Even his food went untouched. She'd already eaten half of her plate before Danny had even looked at his, and Tucker's food was already a dying memory by the time Danny had taken as much as a bite.

"Staring again, dear."

Her eyes shamefully darted back to her Grandma. Caught again. "How many is that, Tucker?" To Sam's horror, Tucker raised a napkin etched with catscratch tally marks in blue pen. He beamed at Sam's pale face with a wide, toothy grin.

"Tucker and I have been counting." Grandma announced. "And we've caught you staring at Hotstuff," Sam blushed even deeper as the old woman adjusted her glasses and squinted through them. "six times already, Sam. He may be a little slow, but he's bound to notice soon."

Sam gave up trying to defend herself and resorted to slumping in her chair in a very unlady-like fashion, something that was sure to make her parents furious, if they weren't so distracted by Mr. Masters and his big wallet.

 _"It could be worse,"_ she told herself as Tucker and her Grandmother chortled over her misery. _"I could have to sit by Valerie."_ She glanced down the table, where Valerie and her father sat beside Tucker's parents. The two were involved in a conversation of their own, smiling and nodding at each other in a way that made Sam's parents feel even less like parents. She stared down at her lap, drawing patterns in the silky material of her coal black dress. _"At least I didn't have to wear that awful dress that mom found."_ The dress that her mother proposed she wore had been fluffy, frilly, and everything she hated all in one hideous ball of pink. It could have been something out of Paulina's closet, a thought that made her hate it even more than she already had. Grandma, though-bless her heart-had come to her rescue with a sleek black dress and a simple, amethyst necklace that matched her eyes. Sam sneaked a careful glance in her direction. The old woman may never tire of her constant teasing, but she was always there when Sam needed her. And that's what counts.

Their dishes were cleared away by maids and servants in tuxes and dresses, but one lingered by Mr. Master's side after the others had already disappeared into the kitchen. His presence was a welcome distraction from her dress, and Sam watched the young serving boy wring his hands while he waited for Vlad to turn to him.

"Yes, my boy?" Vlad asked, swirling his red wine glass once before setting it down.

"Mr. Masters, it seems that the rain has picked up, uh, quite a bit, Sir." the servant stuttered. He looked awfully young, and terribly shy, to be a waiter in the Mayor's mansion. Though it wouldn't be unreasonable for Vlad to have hired extra hands for that night. A staff used to serving two might not be able to handle a dozen quite as easily.

"And?" Vlad raised a bushy eyebrow at the stuttering server.

"Well, the roads are flooded," he glanced at the other guests at the table, smiling apologetically. "I don't think it will be safe for our guests to drive home."

"Is that so.." Vlad said, more to himself. Sam wasn't surprised. The wind that had torn at the abandoned warehouse just the night before had turned into a steady rain throughout the day. On the way here, Sam's father had carried her mother to the limo as to not get her heels wet in the downpour. All in vain, of course, when Grandma stomped a puddle and got all of them doused in freezing, puddle water. The younger Mrs. Manson had nearly huddled up her skirts and gone home, but an invitation to the mayor's mansion was just too much for her to turn down, even when her favorite dress was drenched.

"Well, it's a fortunate thing that we have plenty of guest rooms, now isn't it?" Vlad smiled at the guests. The table murmured with "That would be wonderful, Mayor Masters," and "How kind of you, Mayor Masters," and one "Have you got a bowling alley?"

"Ida!" Pamela scolded. Sam hid her laughter with a napkin.

"Charlie," Vlad addressed the servant boy, "will you get the rooms prepared?"

"Yes, Sir." Charlie nodded quickly and ambled away.

"Dessert?" Vlad questioned his guests, who nodded with eager smiles, except for the blue eyed boy that Sam had once again found herself watching. She drew her eyes away before Tucker and her Grandma, the teasing tag team, could notice. She'd talk to him later. She didn't know what exactly was wrong, but something was. And she had a bad feeling that Ember had something to do with it. But she figured it was a discussion better served after the crème brulee and chocolate strawberries, and of course, another glass of champagne...

* * *

Sam loved her Grandmother dearly, but her constant teasing, combined with her mother's constant complaining, made Sam fear that she would die in the Manson's guest room if she didn't get out. So a quick walk to the kitchen seemed perfectly in order. She could have even stopped by Tucker or Danny's room to say hello, only, she forgot just how big the Master's Mansion was, and the fact that Danny's home-made map that he had bestowed her was just barely legible. She didn't remember those things until she was already on her way and it was too late to turn back. By the time Sam had navigated through the winding halls of the mansion and _finally_ found the kitchen, she was tempted to fall asleep right there on the tile floor. She almost did, actually, but a cheery voice tore Sam from her exhausted stupor with-

"Can I help you, miss?"

"Oh. hi." She said from her spot on the floor, noticing the servant boy for the first time. Charlie, if she remembered right. "I was just looking for a glass of water."

"I can get that for you." He smiled. Sam was on the verge of objecting, but he seemed genuinely eager to help, and she was already tired from her mansion trek.

He delivered the glittering glass of ice water just as Sam rose from her criss-cross-apple-sauce position on the floor and sat down on a spare stool. She sipped at it and watched the boy work at the dishes. He kept glancing at her every once and a while, as if checking to see if she was still there. About the third time he had glanced over his shoulder, Charlie decided to take the risk and speak.

"So you're one of the...elite..ghost hunters, or something?" he asked shyly.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So, you, like, work with Danny and Mr. Masters?"

"We're part of Danny's team," Sam set her cup down on the table, guessing that there were a lot more questions to come, by the curiosity etched in Charlie's voice. "But we don't see Mr. Masters much."

Charlie nodded, as if he expected that much.

"My mom tells me that he travels a lot. She's been working as his full time maid for years, and she says he's always going on business trips."

"Your mom works here too?"

"Yeah. She's sick right now, so I'm filling in for her." Charlie said, turning to face Sam and leaving the pile of dishes unfinished. "To be honest," Charlie's voice grew so quiet that Sam had to lean in to hear. "Mr. Masters kinda creeps me out. He's polite and all, but.. I don't know. My mom has been working here for years, and there are still rooms that she's never been able to go in."

"Why not?" It was a courtesy question, not out of real curiosity. It didn't surprise her that there were still untouched rooms. In a place like this, she imagined it would take a decade to go through every room.

Charlie shrugged. "They're locked. Or they give her the creeps." Charlie's eyes darted around the kitchen, checking for eavesdroppers. "I just think it's a little weird."

"Definitely." Sam said politely, hoping he wouldn't detect her indifference on the topic. Old mansions always had locked rooms and creepy places; she knew hers did, and it was quite a bit smaller than Vlad's.

"But Danny's cool."Charlie's voice raised to a normal volume, and he turned back to the dishes. "But I guess you know that by now. What's it like to work with him? Is he as good as everyone says he is?"

Sam grinned. Charlie would have fit right in with Casper High.

"Even better." Sam took a sip of her water to hide the smile on her face. His face turned back to her with wide eyes.

"No way." Charlie, after doing a whopping _one_ dish, abandoned the job again and sat cross-legged on the floor. "What do you think would happen if Danny fought Phantom?"

Sam was forced to disguise her laughter with a cough. Several coughs, actually.

"Sorry," She said with watering eyes. "went down the wrong tube." Seeing that Charlie was still waiting for her answer, she put on the best innocent smile she could muster and stated that, "It would definitely be a fight worth seeing."

He nodded, eyes wandering in thought. "I think so too." He was quiet for only a second before his eyes focused back on her. "The girls servants are always talking about Danny." He grinned as if he was telling her the biggest secret he could think of. "I've only been here for two days, so I haven't got to talk to him much," Charlie gave another carefree shrug, "but the workers that have been here longer say he's really nice." The young servant laughed, his grin turning impish. "And cute."

Sam felt her cheeks tinge. At dinner, she couldn't help but notice that she wasn't the only one watching Danny like a hawk. She wasn't even one of the worst offenders, either.

"My Grandma thinks that too."

Charlie's laughter filled the whole kitchen. Unfortunately, it was just loud enough to cover the sound of footsteps coming from just outside the door. Charlie held his stomach, wiping tears away as fast as they could fall. Little droplets were still cascading down his cheeks when the head maid stormed in and demanded to know why the dishes weren't done. Sam offered to help, but her cries went unheard by the chubby-cheeked maid and the red faced kitchen boy. Even after the maid had taken her leave, nearly shaking the kitchen with each thunderous step, Charlie had refused her help with a smile.

"Thanks for asking, but I should probably do this myself. It's what I'm getting paid for." He tilted his head to the side. "Well, what my mom's getting paid for."

Sam wished Charlie good night and unfurled the crumpled paper with the directions back to her room. The hallways had grown dim, even with the lights stuck on the wall, and she had to squint to make out the words. That, and Danny's handwriting was truly terrible.

Sam had only taken a few turns when she felt that horrible feeling of being completely lost. And, seeing a familiar figure turn down the next hallway, she had a feeling she wasn't the only one. Sam could recognize those dark curls anywhere.

 _"Valerie."_ Sam considered catching up with her for a second, but then she remembered that she didn't care much for Valerie. No, she would hang back and hope that Valerie would lead her somewhere where she could catch her bearings, if such a place even existed. Unfortunately, she guessed Valerie was just as lost as she was, considering that the girl was pulling at every door, peeking in, and slamming it with an irritated sigh.

They were both just beginning to lose hope when Valerie muttered, "Thank God, Mr. Masters, wait up!"

Sam's view was blocked by a corner, but the sound of a door squeaking shut and by the slump of Valerie's shoulders, she guessed the cry went unheard. She kept her distance behind Valerie, ignoring the fact that she looked like a total stalker, and watched as the Huntress tugged a door open and stepped inside. "Mr. Masters?" Sam dared to edge closer. She was just beyond the door. "What the..."

The sound of Valerie's racing footsteps gave Sam the confidence to peek around the door, just in time to see a sight that could have fallen right out of a Nancy Drew mystery. Every mansion had its secrets, right? Hers had a secret bowling alley, and apparently Mr. Masters' had a book case that slid up to reveal a secret room.

Sam bit back her gasp in order to preserve her, well, _stalking_ , but Valerie wasn't as careful. Compared to the silent library, her gasp was as loud as a shampoo bottle dropped in the shower. Two sets of horrified eyes snapped to the still form of Valerie, one a deep amethyst color, and the other a slate gray. The latter pair weren't even pointed at her, but Sam still felt the chill of their stare resonating to her very bones. She tore her eyes away and pressed her back against the wall, praying that Mr. Masters didn't see her as well. Why? She didn't know exactly why, but she knew that she had never felt such a menacing aura from the charming billionaire. Call it a trick of the light, but for a second, she swore that his eyes had flashed a crimson red.

"There is such a thing as knocking, Miss Grey."

Sam strained her ears to pick up the words, and shuddered at the bitter cold seeping through them. She could only imagine what Valerie was feeling.

"I-um, I'm sorry, Mr. Masters. I didn't mean to intrude or anything." Valerie stuttered. "I was just looking for the bathroom." A pause. "I'll just go-"

"No, my dear. That would be very improper." Sam's eyes widened. At Valerie's jumbled attempt at a response, Vlad interrupted. "You know what this is, don't you?" No answer. "It's alright, Miss Grey, I know you aren't a fool."

"I-it's a ghost lab, I think." Valerie answered quietly. Sam fought the urge to peek around the corner. Thankfully, her heavily beating heart kept her glued to her spot against the wall.

"Now, I can't have you walking away without an explanation, can I?" Vlad responded very matter-of-factly. "You are a girl of potential. Out of all of them, you would be the most likely to understand my practices."

"Um, thank you, sir." Valerie muttered unsurely. The silence that passed was long enough to drive Sam to the edge of insanity. She was just about to say "screw you" to her racing heart and take a peek anyway, when Vlad spoke again with no trace of the icy tone that he once had.

"Come with me, dear, and not a word to anyone."

Sam heard the faint sound of Valerie scuffing the ground with her toe before her footsteps followed after his. Sam counted five seconds before she pried herself from the wall and slowly, carefully, glimpsed around the edge of the door. Masters was watching Valerie over his shoulder while he waited at the door.

Valerie hesitantly eased towards him. She hesitated again at the door of the lab, battling her curiosity over the danger of going into an a mysterious man's secret lab. Sam ducked behind the door once again as Vlad's grey eyes scanned the room. He started to close the door, but looking back at Valerie, seemed to figure that leaving it open would be the better option.

Sam waited until her heart had returned to a normal beat, well, _almost_ normal, before she did the very same thing that she had always yelled at characters in horror movies _not_ to do. But what is a story without a reckless, heart-pounding decision?

Her footsteps were silent and delicate, tip toeing in a way that she had mastered after many young years of playing spy with Danny and Tucker. Still, each squeaky protest of the floorboards sounded like thunder to her ears.

"Of course not, Miss Grey.."

Sam froze with a foot mid air as she picked up Vlad's voice. His tone, deep and loud, could be heard despite the distance that stretched from Sam to the door, though Valerie's answer was still a mumble. Plus, Sam could barely hear anything else over her own breathing. She crept closer, ignoring the pounding in her chest, and inched forward until her fingers were pressed against the frame of the secret door. She leaned her head in close, biting her lip to keep her breaths steady.

"..wouldn't be able to understand like you, Valerie. You know what they're capable of, and you can stop them. That's why you joined this game in the first place. Ghosts ruined your life, did they not?"

"One in particular." Valerie's voice came out like a whip.

"And now you can stop them from ruining anyone else's." Vlad crooned. "Isn't that what you want?"

Valerie was silent, which made Sam very uneasy. At least if they were talking, she knew they couldn't have spotted her, but the silence opened up a perfect opportunity to jump her. Sam's teeth tore into her lip until she tasted blood.

"Yes..but.." Sam almost let out a sigh of relief at Valerie's voice, but decided that wasn't a good idea if she wanted to remain unnoticed. "but is this really the best way?"

"This is the only way, Miss Grey. Information is key, and this girl, this _despicable_ ghost," Vlad hissed with enough venom to make Sam wince, "is keeping us from what we need to restore peace." Sam swore she heard a muffled cry, but the voice wasn't Valerie's. When Valerie spoke a moment later, Sam was sure she must have imagined it.

"But what about Danny?"

"His heart is too troubled by his past. He doesn't see things like we do, Valerie. He's not ready yet."

"But.." Valerie left question hanging in the air

"But you can make a difference in this town."

Another muffled cry, this one too loud for Sam to ignore. Holding her breath, Sam peered around the doorframe, and if one hand hadn't been covering her mouth, she would have gasped loud enough to catch the whole town's ear.

At first, all she saw was green. The whole room was bathed in it, the same eery glow that Danny's ghost eyes emanated. The second thing she noticed was that there was _three_ figures silhouetted in green, two standing, and one tied down to a chair.

Sam squinted, and made out a small, fiery ponytail of blue from the one tied to the chair. _Ember._ Sam could hear Valerie and Mr. Masters, but she was too distracted by the glazed look in Ember's eyes. They reminded her of the frogs that Poindexter had haunted her with. Empty space behind a dark surface of glossed, dead eyes.

Ember stared vacantly at the third thing Sam took notice of: the staff Mr. Masters gripped in one hand. Her dead eyes were glued to the crystal orb on top, where the inside swirled like a red tornado. The glowing orb was held up by a carved bat, whose beady black eyes were the only ones that had taken notice of Sam.

 _"What_ is _that thing?"_

Sam had no idea, but just looking at it made her stomach twist in knots. It was evil-she knew that much. And whatever it was..Sam's wide eyes flicked to Ember, whose head lolled to the side weakly...she knew it was hurting her, or controlling her. Somehow.

Behind their figures, the green vortex, the source of the glow, pulsed whenever Vlad swung the staff in its direction. Ember's glazed eyes followed the orb wherever it went, even though her head slumped like she was asleep.

"He doesn't know, Valerie. He can't know yet; Danny won't understand." Sam's eyes darted back to Vlad as he laid a hand on Valerie's shoulder. "But he will. Soon."

The glow of the staff illuminated his face like the dying coals of a fire. He smiled, eyes glinting red in the light, and Sam thought she had never seen anything so sinister.

His hand dropped away from Valerie's shoulder and he crossed the room. Valerie, and Sam, watched him carefully as he unlocked and pulled open a drawer in one of the many cabinets, pulling out a...Sam couldn't tell what it was. Red material coiled over his fingers, pooling in shades the same color as the glowing orb.

"What do you say, Miss Grey?" Sam watched, his throat constricting so much that she couldn't take a solid breath if she wanted to. Valerie looked to him, to the red material in his hands, and to Ember, the green and red glows mottling her face like a fierce warrior in paint. "Do you want to make a difference in this world?"

He swung the staff in a wide stretch of his arm, and the back of Ember's head smacked against the metal chair as she followed it, her neck bending at a nauseating angle. The swirls of green grew so bright that Sam had to squint her eyes against the light. The tendrils of green poured from the circle as if reaching for the menacing staff, but Vlad tucked it back under his arm before the misty fingers could come close.

"I do."

Sam felt like she had been punched in the gut. Valerie took a step forward, and Sam wanted to scream. She wanted to stop her, tell her that something was terribly _wrong_ about this, but Sam couldn't move. Her feet were stuck as if she had fallen in wet cement.

 _"This isn't right...this_ can't _be right!"_

Sam couldn't explain why her whole body trembled, or how she knew something was terribly wrong. Maybe it was the way Ember's eyes rolled back into her head, her whole body slumping into the metal chair and the thick chains that held her as the green vortex pulsed behind her. Or maybe it was the feral grin etched into Vlad's face as Valerie took the material, a sleek red suit, from his hands and into her own. Sam didn't take the time to contemplate. She ran with only one thought on her mind:

 _"I have to find Danny..."_


	19. Chapter 19

Danny hadn't bothered to ask how Sam found his room, or why she burst in in the middle of the night, raving like a lunatic. Really, he didn't get a chance.

"Danny!" Sam shouted, throwing his door open. She didn't bother to knock.

"Sam-" Danny rose quickly from his chair, leaving his game controller to save his seat.

"Danny, I-you- _Vlad_ -" Sam fumbled. She blushed, realizing she probably should have figured out what to say before she threw open Danny's door and demanded his attention.

"Sam, what's going on?"

"Vlad and Valerie-Ember!" She panted. Her breath was already shaky and heart already pounding by the time she made the run from Vlad's secret lab, through the maze of corridors and stairs, to finally find Danny's room. She had only stopped once, just to ask a young maid where Danny Fenton's room was. The young girl had given her exact directions, which was a bit unsettling, but she didn't have time too think much about it. She just ran and recited the directions over and over again in her head, doing her very best not to think of Vlad and the staff, Valerie, and Ember...

"Yeah, okay. Now say that again, but try speaking in English this time." Tucker sat up from his sprawled position over a rolling chair. The title screen of "Doom" still played on the computer screen behind him. Danny crossed to Sam, taking her shaking arm by the elbow.

"Sam, are you okay?" He pulled his chair out for her. "Maybe you should sit down." Sam ignored his offer.

"Danny, I really need to tell you this."

"Can you tell me sitting down?"

An impatient sigh burst past Sam's lips. She sat down, figuring he wouldn't let her talk until she did.

"Danny, I-I don't really know how to explain this, but I have to tell you. So listen." He nodded, his brow furrowed in concern. "I was trying to find my room and I couldn't see your directions because it was dark, and I got lost, and so did Valerie, and-"

"Slow down, Sam. You're making my head spin." Danny interrupted. "Just catch your breath and then we'll try that again, okay?" Danny sat criss-cross on the floor by her feet.

"Danny, you're not listening!"  
"Well, you're making it really hard."

"That's what she said."

"Not now, Tuck."

"Okay." Sam braced her hands on her knees and took a deep breath. "Tucker, shut the door, please."

"Uh, okay." He said hesitantly, rising to the door and pulling it closed with a soft click _._ "Now can you tell us what's going on?" Sam nodded quickly, taking just a second more to regain her breath while Tucker sat down on the bed.

"Guys," Sam said, slowly this time. "You're probably gonna think I'm crazy, but you have to hear this..."

* * *

Sam watched Danny with worried eyes as he paced back and forth in his bedroom, eyes clouded with thought.

"I know Vlad has a lab- that's where the portal is- but..." He ran a hand through his already tussled hair. "Sam-are you sure?"

"I know what I saw, Danny."

"But..no." Danny shook his head. "No. There has to be some mistake. Vlad should have released Ember back into the Ghost Zone by now. I don't know why he would.." Danny planted his feet in the carpet, shaking his head again.

"Have you ever _seen_ Vlad do that? Release a ghost back into the Ghost Zone?" Tucker, much to Sam's silent relief, piped up. "I mean, what if Vlad isn't being completely honest with you?" Tucker's eyes darted to Sam, and then quickly back to Danny as the half-ghost began to speak again.

"Vlad wouldn't lie to me. He's _never_ lied to me. He's..." Danny faltered. "No. He wouldn't do that."

"Danny," Sam said softly, rising from her chair and taking a few steps towards him. "You knowI wouldn't lie to you, either. Especially about something like this." She took a few steps closer and tugged at his crossed arms until he let one fall down to dangle at his side. "You know that, don't you?" A soft flush colored Danny's cheeks as Sam took his hand. His eyes rose to meet hers for the first time since Sam finished her story.

"I know, Sam, but Vlad-"

"He said something else. Something about you...not being _ready_ , I guess."

"Ready?" Danny's eyebrows scrunched in that familiar, confused face of his. The same face he'd been wearing most of the night. "Ready for what?"

Sam shook her head, eyes falling from his. "I don't know. But from what I saw," Sam gulped, remembering Ember's glazed eyes rolling back into her head. A scarlet staff and swirls of toxic green. "it's nothing good."

Danny dropped her hands and went back to pacing, only to stop a second later.

"And Ember, she was.."

"Tied up. In chains." Sam finished for him. "I think she was being controlled somehow. Her eyes were glossy, like she was sleeping with her eyes open, but they kept following that creepy..thing that Vlad was holding."

"A staff?" Tucker clarified.

"Something like that." Sam bit her lip, thinking about those glowing eyes that peered from the bat's head like glistening rubies. Enchanting, haunting.

"I've never seen a staff like that. And Vlad wouldn't-he told me he just put the ghost back in the Zone."

"Then what was he doing to Ember?"

"I don't know." Danny sighed exasperatedly. He slumped next to Tucker on the ground.

Sam watched his hair tangle in his fingers as he ran them through, muttering to himself. He rested his head against the bed, eyes staring thoughtfully at the solar system painted on the ceiling, as if it would give him all the answers.

"And why Valerie?" He cried out suddenly, as if the girl had personally wronged him. Sam had wondered the same thing herself.

"He said something about her being"... _how did he put it._.. "the most likely to understand or something."

"Most likely to understand _what,_ exactly?"

"Probably whatever he was doing to Ember." Tucker offered, giving Sam another questioning glance. She nodded in his direction. "He must know that you're not down with," Tucker shrugged, his lips pulled into a frown. "whatever he was doing. Controlling, or, uh-"

"Brainwashing!" Sam gasped. The shout brought her to her feet. She said it again, as if testing the word. The way Ember's dead eyes followed it, like her whole being was trapped within that swirling scarlet orb. How could it be anything else? "Danny, isn't that what Ember was yelling about when we first got her?" His frown grew even deeper. "Something about that Plasimis guy brainwashing her."

"Plasmius." Danny corrected. He muttered it again, and the color drained from his face. He looked more of a ghost then than he ever had as Phantom.

"Why do I feel like that means something to you?" Tucker spoke Sam's same thoughts aloud. That name, _Plasmius,_ seemed terribly familiar. Like a key to an unknown lock. A lock, Sam figured, that would crack this Vlad-Ember-Valerie business wide open.

Danny was still staring blankly at the ceiling when Sam's eyes found their way back to him. For the first time since the conversation began, Danny's hands were still. Sam wished he would run them through his hair again. Do anything, really, but just lay in his lap idly. Danny was not an idle person. Seeing him so still, so hollow..it scared her.

"Danny?" She said softly. He didn't look up. She sat down, criss-cross in front of him, and dared ask the question that had been haunting her for days now. "Who's Plasmius?"

That got his attention.

His gaze finally rose to meet her, his eyes glittering somewhere between angry and lost.

"Do you know him? Does Vlad know him?"

Sam waited, holding her breath, while Danny just stared. When Sam thought she couldn't hold her breath any longer, he finally answered.

"Sam, Vlad _is_ Plasmius."

Suddenly, the key found the lock, and Sam had never felt so lost in her life.

"Wait." Tucker shattered the silence. "Vlad, like our _Mayor_ Vlad, is-"

"Plasmius." Danny bit his lip, eyes falling to the floor. "The ghost Ember warned us about." He rose to his feet, grimacing like it pained him to do so. "Well, warned _you_ about." He regarded them both carefully. Sam felt like she was supposed to say something, but she was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her mayor was half dead. Which was quite a concept. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. The fascination with ghosts, the overnight billions-if Vlad's powers were anything like Danny's, it couldn't be very hard to get a hold of a few billion dollars-how he had taken Danny in when his parents died, despite not having seen the Fentons since college. The locked doors, the mysterious business trips, quick disappearances...how could she have not seen it before?

"There's gotta be some kind of mistake." Danny swore. He went back to pacing back and forth around his room, nearly burning holes in his own carpet. "Vlad wouldn't do this to me. He promised me-"

"Danny," Tucker caught him by the elbow and pulled Danny back to his spot on the floor. "Let's think about this, alright?"

"I am thinking about this!"

"I meant think with _us_." Tucker gestured between himself and Sam with the hand that wasn't holding Danny in place, for fear that he'd fly through the ceiling the second Tucker let go. Which, given his aptitude for that kind of thing, was very possible. Danny finally settled down enough to listen, if only because Tucker didn't seem to be letting him go any time soon.

"So, if Vlad is really..brainwashing?" Tucker raised his eyebrows at Sam. She nodded, and he continued. " _Brainwashing_ Ember, then we could probably guess this isn't the first time he's been doing this. Ember said something about that, didn't she? About, uh, Plasmius brainwashing the ghosts?"

"But what for?" Sam questioned."If Vlad has ghost powers of his own, than what does he need other ghosts for?" Danny glared down at his hands quietly, seemingly just as lost as they were. "Maybe we should go ask _Valerie._ " he spat.

"Maybe we can find out." Tucker said with a glimmer of hope, and even more mischief, in his seafoam eyes.

"How?" Sam dared to ask. It's not like they could just wander down and ask him. Something told her that that was a very bad idea. She caught sight of Tucker's grin, and guessed his idea wasn't as terrible as hers (in his mind, at least). And Sam had known him long enough to know what that ridiculous grin meant.

"You have a plan?"

"You know it. Danny, does this old psycho have a computer?"

"Yeah," Danny answered quietly, eyebrows furrowing as he finally looked up from the floor. "but he doesn't use it much."

Tucker had already pulled out his ever-handy PDA-the newest version, thanks to Sam and a few frogs that needed to be set free in Lancer's class-before Sam could ask just how much trouble he was about to get them into.

"I can hack into his system and see what this old coot is up to." So, a lot of trouble was the answer.

"You can do that?" Danny's eyes widened at Tucker's new PDA. Tucker snorted.

"Of course I can, old lady." he elbowed Danny in the ribs. "Get with the century, bro." Danny flushed pink, but didn't offer a comeback. Technology was never Danny's expertise, even before his life was consumed by ghost hunting and keeping the peace. He could handle video games pretty well, but that was about it.

"Firewall." Tucker muttered, typing furiously on the little buttons of his PDA. "Too bad for him, this baby has an app enabled to disable firewalls. Tucker-1, Super Block Firewall Security Protector-0." Tucker smirked, holding up his PDA like it was a trophy. Danny didn't give him much time to rejoice.

"What does it say?" Danny snatched the phone out of his friend's hand. "This screen is so tiny."

"It's pocket compatible." Tucker defended. He reached for his dear, pocket-sized PDA, but Danny twisted away before he could come close.

"Guys.." Danny muttered, ignoring Tucker's complaint. He tapped on the buttons, eyes glued to the screen. "Vlad has a file on every ghost I've ever weaknesses, abilities, strengths..." he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, like he was forcing himself to blink. "why does he need all this?"

Sam peeked over Danny's shoulders to see a rather lengthy list of names, a carefully detailed description under each one.

"Woah." she muttered. She knew Danny had caught a lot of ghosts in the past few years, but there was even more than she'd imagined. Hundreds-thousands, maybe. She could make out a few familiar names, the more memorable ghost attacks, but the rest were no more than names to her. And then they were just blurs as the screen began to move faster and faster down the list.

"Danny, what're you-"

"I'm not doing that!" Danny dropped the PDA, but the screen kept moving, changing into flashes of green text.

"Tucker, what's it doing?" Danny tossed the PDA known as Stacy back at Tucker like it was a hot coal.

"It's Vlad. He must be using his computer now." Tucker cradled the PDA in his hands.

"Does he know we were on it?" Sam worried, watching the screen flash in the reflection of his glasses. She hoped that staff of Vlad's wasn't as useful against people as it was against ghosts.

"No. He shouldn't be able to tell." Tucker said, seemingly unworried. Sam's heart slowed a bit at that. Tucker usually knew what he was talking about when it came to technology. But if he was wrong...she gulped at the thought.

"Guys, take a look at this."

Sam and Danny moved to look over Tucker's shoulder. Ember's profile appeared on the screen, fitted with a lengthy description and a picture of the ghost girl on a concert stage, her hair flaming as she strung the guitar.

Sam's eyes darted to the bottom of the page, just below the description, where a single word was being erased.

 **Ember McLain: Missing.**

The word "Missing" disappeared, quickly replaced by another.

 **Ember McLain: Secure.**

"Secure?" Sam whispered.

"That must mean she's been brainwashed." Tucker whispered back. Sam doubted that Vlad could hear them through the PDA, but this kind of sneaking required whispers anyway. Besides, who knew what Vlad could manage with his ghost powers? Sam made a note to ask Danny about it later.

"Guys, the screen is moving again." Danny murmured.

Sam's eyes followed the arrow as it combed through the files. It stopped at the file named **"Allies"** and clicked on it. She felt her throat go dry at the long list of names that the file held. A _very_ long list. Her eyes caught on one name in particular, the name of a friend, a ghost, and a boy all in one.

 **Phantom/ Danny Masters**

 _"Danny Masters?"_ Sam recoiled from the screen. All those times Vlad had been so proud of Danny, so protective, suddenly didn't seem as sweet as they used to. Not protective, not proud, but _possessive._ She shuddered at the memories now, seeing them with a whole new, sickly twist.

"Danny _Masters_?" Danny hissed. His usually gentle eyes were ablaze with the angry green glow of a phantom. "Masters?" he cursed bitterly. "Who does he think-"

"Danny, look." Tucker took Danny by the chin and forced his face back to the screen. "He's making a new folder."

Sam narrowed her eyes as words came to life on the screen. Her stomach settled with stones at the sight.

"No." She muttered softly, her heart beating faster and faster with each typed letter. She knew that name.

"No way." Danny stared at the screen. The fire had left his eyes. "She's smarter than this."

"Oh man." Tucker whispered. "Something tells me this is really bad."

Sam couldn't agree more. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting it to be all gone when her eyes opened again. She would be in her room, sleeping soundly in her nice, warm bed. Everything was a dream. No Plasmius, no Valerie, no devilish schemes and brainwashing rockstars.

And yet, when her eyes opened, there was no bedroom and no purple bedsheets. There was Danny, and Tucker beside him, hunched over a tiny screen, staring at a single name flashing in typed green letters.

 **Valerie Gray/ Red Huntress.**

 **A/N: I kinda have to re-write the next chapter, so it might take longer than usual to get it posted. I hope you all can bear with me until then! Thank you all and See you soon!**


	20. Chapter 20

Sam blinked, and the few remaining drops flew from her lashes like tiny diamond studs. She unplugged the hair dryer and let her hair fall to her shoulders in tangled ebony tussles.

Sam dropped her towel and picked up her pajamas, nothing more than a t-shirt two sizes too big and a pair of sweatpants that pooled around the heels of her feet. The drip of the shower was the only sound to break the silence as she pulled the t-shirt over her head. A mansion worth millions, and the showers still leaked.

Sam sighed, her breath fogging up her own reflection in the mirror. She didn't bother to clear a space for her face. Instead, she picked the towel off the ground and carefully stepped past the puddles her wet hair had dripped on the floor. It occurred to her that she should probably clean those puddles up, or else she take a nasty slip at three am when she needed to use the bathroom, but it also occurred to her that there was something called evaporation that would eventually clean it up for her. So she could leave it to nature, for now, or until she found the energy to do something besides think and mope.

Sam grimaced at the thought. That's all she'd been doing since that night at the mayor's mansion. Moping. She could still picture Danny's face, his handsome, gentle features twisted with confusion. Anger, shock, desolation...she didn't know which one exactly, but they all seemed to fit pretty well.

Sam's foot slid over a puddle that she hadn't noticed. She fell into the door to keep herself from falling onto the ground. The weight of her body threw open her bathroom door with more force than it deserved. The knob crashed against the wall with a horrible, hole-punching-through-the-wall sound. Sam winced and gently pulled it back. A huff of relief pushed past her lips when she saw that there wasn't a nasty doorknob-shaped hole. The only mark was a little chip in the lilac paint coating her walls. This was one of the times that Sam was thankful she lived in a big house, and that her parents couldn't hear if she accidentally slammed a door or dropped something heavy. Then again, her parents were hardly home anyway, so it wouldn't have mattered even if they could hear. She thought she'd heard their limo pull out of the driveway before she had got into the shower. They probably weren't home yet, and wouldn't be for a while.

Her cold feet dug into the carpet as she walked across it. She crossed to the window and pulled it open, letting the cold breeze of night run through her hair and make dark strands twirl above her head. The towel was just about on its way to being hung up on her window sill, air drying to save energy, of course, when a raindrop hit her nose and rolled down the end of it.

"It's raining?" She murmured to the sky. "Again?" As if in response, a second raindrop tumbled from the heavens and landed in her eye. She blinked it out and pulled her face, and the towel, back in the safety of her room. The wet towel would just have to dry on the hamper, then.

Sighing, Sam leaned her elbows against the window sill, cupping her face in her palms. It hadn't been raining before she'd turned the shower on hot and hopped in, before her parents had cruised out of the driveway in their overpriced limo, no doubt going to some rich party that Sam would have hated. How long had she been in the shower, then? That didn't mean much, really. She'd learned in the past few weeks that everything could change in a matter of seconds, one word or rash decision. Weather, she guessed, wasn't exempt to that rule either.

Her breath rose in front of her like a hazy cloud. She shivered looking at it, and stole a blanket from her bed. She could have just as easily shut the window and gone to bed, but for once, sleep didn't appeal to her in the least. Watching the rain dance in the wind, fall in blurry streaks of silver against black, brought her something like the peace she had been sorely lacking since that night at the mansion. Maybe it was the cold that she'd always loved, or the soothing lullaby of pattering rain that calmed her mind. And then there was the color. Sparkling silver against the inky darkness of a sleeping city, like silver gloves on a jet black suit.

 _"Of course."_ Sam thought, sticking her hand out into the rain. _"Alone with my thoughts for one second and they all turn to him."_

With everything that had happened in the past few days, weeks, months, what else was there to think about? He was always there, right at the center of her trouble, her misery, and her joy. It all led back to him, someway. Hadn't it always?

Cool drops brushed against her hand, rolling down her fingers and pooling into a silver puddle in her palm.

The first time her mother had met him, back in Sam's elementary days, Mrs. Manson had called the bedraggled boy with a chip in his tooth and leaves in his hair nothing but trouble.

Sam swirled the puddle in her hand and watched the water dance with silver sparkles, glimmers of the moonlight, trapped by the reflection of the rain.

He _was_ trouble, but he was a lot more than that.

She opened her hand, and the puddle spilled over her fingers in a rush to finish their steady descent to the ground. Her arms folded on the window sill to make a pillow for her head. She closed her eyes, listening to the rain drops growing louder and faster with every passing minute. It was raining that night as well, when the storm kept the guests confined in the mayor's mansion.

 _"Danny Masters."_ she thought, shuddering from more than just the cold. Those two words had changed the way Sam saw everything regarding the mayor billionaire. And she couldn't imagine how Danny felt.

"Danny." She muttered quietly, wondering what he was doing.

"Hey, Sam." the wind answered in a voice that she knew very well. "You awake?"

The sudden appearance of bright green eyes brought Sam to her feet with a shriek that surely would have roused her parents if they were home. The blanket slid from her shoulders and pooled around her feet like a snare. Her heel caught on one of the many folds in an attempt to take a step away from the glowing eyes in her window, and the very owner of those eyes had to grab her by the wrist to keep her from tumbling to the ground, ensnared in a velvet blanket.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"What're you doing here?" Sam asked in a tone much harsher than she intended. He dropped her wrist, a green blush filling in his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "I know it's late. It tried to call you, but you didn't answer." Sam thought guiltily of her phone, which she had neglected to put on the charger after it died some hours ago. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I...I'll see you tomorrow." Danny stepped away from his spot on the windowsill and into the open, freezing air. His white hair danced in a flurry with the wind, like a snow blizzard.

"No!" Sam cried. Danny's face flushed with confusion. "Come back." Sam demanded, reaching her hand out the window. Her skin was pelted with icy raindrops, falling much more fervently than before. And she guessed it would only get worse as the night went on. She didn't like the idea of Danny out there in the cold.

He took her hand hesitantly, like he still wasn't sure if she meant it or not. Sam slid her fingers in between his gloved ones and held his hand tightly, pulling him back in the room.

"It's freezing out there." Sam reminded him. "You're gonna get sick if you stay out any longer."

"Says the girl that falls asleep with her head hanging out the open window." he pointed out. Sam blushed. He had a point.

"Whatever." Sam said in lieu of anything else to say. She pushed past him to close the window. "Really though, what are you doing out there in the rain?" She was pretty sure of the answer already, but she wanted to see what he would say. Probably anything but the truth.

"There was a ghost." He shrugged.

 _"Partial truth,"_ Sam thought, noting the tear in his suit. A green line marked his shoulder beneath the tear. "We should patch that up." She said aloud. Danny glanced down at his shoulder as Sam reached for the blanket that doubled as a snare for clumsy feet.

"Okay." he said carelessly.

" _Okay_?" Sam echoed incredulously. The blanket slipped from her fingers and back onto the carpeted floor. "That's it?" Danny frowned at her outburst. "No 'it's fine Sam, really,' or 'it's just a scratch, Sam, I don't even feel it'?"

Danny just shrugged again, infuriatingly careless.

"Sit down." Sam ordered. "And don't move." she draped the blanket across Danny's wet shoulders. "I'll get the first aid kit. Try not to bleed on my blanket, okay?" He smiled at her weakly.

She pulled the kit from its hidden spot underneath her bed and came back to him. She watched him, the ghostly hero of Amitypark, pick at the purple stitches on her blanket as she sat down across from him.

"What dumb ghost is stupid enough to start trouble in the middle of a rainstorm?" Sam asked, shuffling through her medical kit. "Besides you?"

He shrugged. "Just some ghost."

"What did you do with it?"

Danny tapped his thermos, hanging on his belt.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with it now. With Vlad and..all that."

Sam watched him out of the corner of her eye as she pulled out Neosporin and bandages. Vlad and all that. The other half of the truth, the real reason he was sitting on her bedroom floor, sopping wet and bleeding in the middle of the night.

"Have you been home at all?"

He winced at that word, _home._ They both knew his real home was a pile of ashes and rubble.

"No." he spoke barely above a whisper.

Sam had figured as much. The initial hint was when he walked into her first period class of the morning. She hadn't even known he was in the class, considering his attendance was at a pathetic low. And yet he showed up _on time_ to class, and every class after that. He sat with her and Tucker at lunch instead of mulling over cases in Vlad's office. He didn't go home after school, but went to Tucker's place every day this week. She wondered if Vlad had noticed his absence as much as she had noticed his presence.

"Stay still." Sam said gently as she pulled away the torn patch on his suit. He squirmed nonetheless. "This would go a lot faster if you stopped fighting it." she chided. She tugged at his suit that stood in between her and that bleeding cut. "Take this off."

He grumbled, but obeyed. The wet suit stuck to his skin like it was part of him, but with enough tugging and grumbling on his part, the top of his broad shoulders finally appeared, followed by the rest of his top half. The movement only made his shoulder bleed more. With the hindrance of the top of his suit gone, Sam could finally see the severity of it. It wasn't the worst she had seen, not by a long shot, but it was deep enough to make her lips tug into a pained frown. Danny seemed to barely notice the injury, even as green blood rolled down his chest and gathered at his waist. He stared at the ground as Sam sopped up the ectoplasm with a towel.

"Thanks for doing this." Danny said as she pressed the antiseptic wipe to his skin as tenderly as her careful hands would allow.

"Thanks for not arguing every step of the way like you usually do."

He smiled ruefully. "Trouble." Sam joked, thinking of her mother's voice as she said it. "I have to do stitches on this one. Don't look."

Danny looked anyway, watching the steady rhythm of her hands as she stitched the gash with a careful precision far beyond her years. It didn't seem to bother him, aside from the occasional wince and grimace, and it wasn't the first time she wondered how many times he had needed to do this himself. She had never asked, because she had never wanted to know the answer. Somehow, she knew it wouldn't be a good one.

She slathered his shoulder with pain reliever and antibiotic ointment before wrapping it, twice for good measure, cutting and taping the bandages around him. Danny moved his arm up and down to check it. Sam felt her lips twitch in pride when the bandaging stayed secure. Her medical skills really had improved. The proud grin quickly fell when she remembered why.

"How does it feel?" the words scratched her throat like an awful cold.

"Good."

Sam rose to her feet, expecting him to be off in a hurry like he always was, but he didn't rise or hurry off. This time he stayed, his bare torso wrapped in a blanket and toes buried in the carpet. Why had she expected anything else? She knew his visit had never been about wrapping up a new cut, one of thousands that he had stitched up just fine himself. He wasn't looking for shelter from the rain and wind or anything else. It was an excuse to not go home, not to have to see Vlad. Sam understood that well enough.

"You want some tea?" she asked, hoping to keep his company as much for her sake as his. His company seemed a thousand times better than another night of quiet.

His gaze rose to hers, surprise drawing his dark eyebrows together.

"Tea? I never drink tea." Sam rolled her eyes at his cluelessness, and that, for once, was enough to make him understand. His eyes raised, glittering like sapphires in candlelight. "Tea sounds great. I'll have five."

Sam's laughter filled the empty house for the first time in a long time.

"Good." she smiled and offered a hand to help him up. "You should learn to live off more than coffee and Dr. Pepper."

"I drink water sometimes." he griped, taking her hand.

"Uh huh." Sam replied, unconvinced. "We might have some Dr. Pepper flavored tea in the kitchen." She joked. Her eyes studied him as he smiled. "But I would change back if I were you." Sam said, blushing at the bare skin on his torso. "I don't know how my Grandma would react to a half-naked Danny Phantom in my kitchen."

Danny turned red at the thought, color that lingered even after he had changed back into his human form and followed her out the door.

* * *

They sat cross-legged on her bed, swirling the tea that was still far too hot to actually drink. Danny sipped at his occasionally, always hissing as the hot tea burned his mouth, but seemed determined to show Sam that he could bear to drink something besides pure caffeine. Even if it was steaming hot.

"Okay. I got another one." Danny said, wincing as he took the steaming cup away from his lips. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Yes, Danny." Sam rolled her eyes. She didn't see why he needed to make her promise before every confession.

"Remember in first grade when you asked me to take care of your stuffed animal bat-"

"Brownie?"

"-yeah, and I told you Dash took it?"

"Uh huh.." Sam answered questioningly. Danny swirled his tea with a spoon and tried to take another sip.

"Dash didn't take it. I dropped it when I was crossing the road to walk home and it got ran over by a car."

Sam nearly dropped her tea.

"You let Brownie get run over by a car?" she gasped.

"Like, three cars, actually." Danny hid his smile with the coffee cup. "You said you wouldn't get mad." Sam glared at him silently over her own cup.

"You know I emptied a whole bag of spiders in Dash's lunchbox for that."

Danny snorted.

"Maybe that's why he hated me in elementary."

"No, I'm pretty sure he hated you because you pushed him into a mud puddle in second grade."

"That was an accident!" Danny placed his cup on Sam's dresser. "You're the one that pushed me into him."

"Oh," Sam smirked. "that was an accident too."

"No it wasn't."

"You said you wouldn't get mad." She mocked in a poor imitation of Danny's voice. He rolled his eyes at her. "That was revenge for the murder of Brownie."

"Naming a bat Brownie is murder enough."

Sam took the biggest pillow on her bed and threw it at his head, which he avoided easily. Unfortunately for him, Sam had more than one oversized pillow on her bed. It took three tries before she finally hit him, square in the face. Already teetering on the edge of her bed, the force was enough to make him tumble off her mattress and hit the ground with a thud. Sam's raucous laughter and Danny's pained groaning sounded over the gentle patter of rain outside the window. Sam left her cup on a coaster and crawled over to Danny's side. She peeked her head past the bed and grinned at his sprawled figure on her carpet.

"Ouch." Danny muttered, his voice muffled by a mouthful of pillow.

"Baby."

Danny flipped onto his back and stared up at her. The fall had made his hair even messier than it already was. He held his hand out towards her.

"You could at least help me up."

Sam grinned down at him.

"Nope." she pulled away from the edge and returned to her criss-cross position. "You'll just pull me down with you."

"I won't!" he cried indignantly from the floor.

"Anyone who allows an innocent stuffed animal to be run over by a car isn't very trustworthy."

"Sam!" He groaned. His hand appeared, clutching the mattress for support, quickly followed by the rest of him. He dragged Sam's purple blanket up with him and wrapped it around his shoulders like he had when she was bandaging his shoulder.

"I get some of that too." Sam scooted towards him.

"No way." Danny squirmed out of her reach. "Get your own blanket."

"That _is_ my blanket, dumbass."

Danny grinned. "You got me there." He opened his arm, extending the blanket out like a fluffy purple wing. She sidled in close and he closed his arm around the both of them, pulling the blanket over their heads.

"Remember when we used to make blanket castles?" they were close enough that he only had to whisper for her to hear.

"And I would be the queen." Sam chuckled. "You were the knight. What was Tucker?"

"The royal jester."

Sam buried her face in the blanket and laughed. The Queen, the Knight, and the Jester. Maybe they hadn't changed so much afterall.

"I miss that." Sam whispered, leaning against Danny's arm.

"Me too. Let's wake Tucker up and drag him over here."

"Maybe if it wasn't one o'clock in the morning."

"Is it really?" He poked his head out from under the blanket and looked for a clock.

"Just about."

"Do you want me to go?" he asked softly.

"No." Sam answered quickly. She really didn't, and she could tell by his voice that he didn't want to go either. He seemed genuinely happy for the first time since the night Tucker hacked into Vlad's computer, and Sam had no desire to ruin it. She pulled the blanket back over their heads and wrapped an arm around his middle. "Stay."

"The queen speaks." Danny joked.

"You can stay the night if you want. Or at least until it stops raining."

"I think we passed the night two hours ago."

Sam slugged him in the chest with her free hand.

"You know what I mean."

"Ow."

"Now is when you say thank you."

Danny's laugh was breathy and warm.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Danny's palm glowed with a soft green light that showed his smile. "Really, I appreciate it. I don't really want to spend another night at Fruitloop's palace."

"I know." she said quietly. "You can always stay here."

"If you ever get that Dr. Pepper tea you promised, I will..."

She laughed, and Danny's forehead came to rest against hers as he laughed with her. The laughter finally faded, and with it went the lingering distance between them, formed of two years of silence. For the first time in that long, Sam wasn't the bitter, cold girl she had become in his absence, and he wasn't the broken ghost hunter with a burden bigger than the world. It was just them- a girl that had a heart for trouble and a boy that seemed nothing but trouble. With him, she wasn't an outcast, and with her, he wasn't a ghost freak. They were just Sam and Danny, the way it was supposed to be. And it had only taken a blanket castle and two cups of too warm tea to remind them of that.

Under the soft glow of green light, he cupped her chin and brought her closer to him. She closed the little space that was left between them, and the green light faded with his lips against hers.

* * *

Danny's phone rang and went to voicemail three times before Sam felt him throw the blankets off himself and fumble for it. The phone went silent, and almost immediately went off again. Sam groaned and pulled the blankets over her head.

"Tucker," she heard Danny sigh, his voice gruff with sleep. "You better have a good reason for calling me at four in the morning."

" _Tucker_?" Sam growled and sat up in her bed. "Remind me to kill him tomorrow."

"What?" Danny said into the phone. He stood, all sleepiness disappearing from his face. Sam sat up straighter as her eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see his tired blue eyes sharpen with thought.

"Are you sure it's her?" pause. "Is she okay? How bad is it? Is she-." Danny quieted, listening to the voice on the phone. His free hand tangled in his messy black hair. "Sorry. I-no, don't go. I mean it Tucker.." Danny started to the window as Sam disentangled herself from the blankets. "I will. Just..stay where you are, okay?" Danny snapped his phone shut.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, slipping over the edge of the bed.

"Tucker saw Valerie catch a ghost, but he thinks she's hurt." A worried frown curved the form of his lips. "Pretty bad."

Sam bit her lip. She didn't like Valerie as a person, (there was no debate there,) but nevertheless, Valerie was still her teammate. And still a human being.

"At least, he thinks it was her. The suit matched the description you gave us. Red, stretchy?" Sam nodded. "Then who else could it be?" She doubted there were many other people running around Amity this time of the night, covered in red spandex. It was a weird town, but not _that_ weird.

Sam's bedroom was washed in brilliant white light as Danny's wrinkled clothes transformed into his black suit.

"I'll bet more than anything she'll go to Vlad for help. I hope I can find her before she does."

"I'm coming with you." Sam said, brushing the wrinkles out of her own clothes as she crossed to him.

Danny opened his mouth to object, but Sam put a finger to his lips before he could. "You don't have time to argue. Valerie's in trouble." Danny glared down at her, eyes narrowed with the sudden understanding that he was being played, and that Sam, as much as he didn't want to admit it, was probably right.

He took her hand from his lips and held it in his. Of course, he could just fly away and she couldn't stop him, but by that fierce determination in her eyes, he knew he'd pay hell for it later.

"It's like I'm talking to a brick wall." he grumbled, linking her arm in his. "Hang on."

* * *

The first thing Sam noticed was that everything was shiny. Bright, sparkling silver that marked a well maintained lab with important looking devices that Sam could guess what they were capable of. The most impressive of all had to be the portal, standing easily double her height. It was closed now, the other world just behind it closed off by two heavy doors of silver, but Sam could still feel the power radiating from it. She remembered the green wispy fingers reaching out from the other side, slithering their way through the lab, to Ember and that staff with the awful swirling crystal. She shivered, wondering if that staff was still hidden in there somewhere.

"Why would Vlad send her out before she was ready?" Danny hissed as his feet touched down on the floor. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

The door to the library groaned, and Danny disappeared before her eyes. She could still feel his invisible hand intertwined in her equally invisible hand. She squeezed it as the secret door slid open. Sam held her breath when Vlad walked in, Valerie leaning on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Mr. Masters." Valerie said, wincing as she took the stairs one at a time.

"Of course, my dear. How's your head?"

Valerie rubbed a spot just behind her ear. Her nose scrunched at the touch.

"The lump is going down. The medicine must be working, cause it doesn't hurt as much."

Valerie and Vlad reached the last stair and came into Sam's view. Vlad, immaculate in his usual black suit, and Valerie a little worse for wear in her scarlet attire. The red fabric the stretched over her body suffered a few black marks-scuffs or burns, Sam couldn't tell- but she was still intact.

"And the suit? How did it perform?" Vlad pulled out a chair and Valerie sat, rubbing the back of her head.

"It was great, but I still have to get used to it. A little more practice couldn't hurt."

"That suit is the first of its kind. You'll get used to it in time, and then, my dear, you'll be unstoppable." Valerie grinned, despite the tremor coursing throughout her entire body. "And now, let's take care of this pesky little ghost, shall we?"

Valerie started to nod, winced, and then replied with a shaky, "Okay." She pulled out a thermos much like Danny's, hit the release button, and a familiar, eery blue light filled the lab. It faded away after a few seconds, leaving a oafish ghost ensnared in a net like a pre-wrapped Christmas present.

"Excellent job," Vlad grinned, observing the ghost with his hands folded neatly behind his back. "As is expected."

The ghost was large with striped pajamas and a face like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. It was a face that made Sam want to cringe, but her heart went out to the ghost as he started to tremble.

"She doesn't like me," he told Vlad with a shaking voice and lips. "She doesn't want to be my friend."

Vlad leaned down to eye level with the ghost, his hands still clasped behind his back.

"Well, good friends are hard to come by, aren't they?" he mocked. He straightened and strutted to a vault, clad in shining silver paint.

"Are you my friend?" the ghost asked. The hope in his voice made Sam want to cry and cut him loose. Danny must have felt the same, because he tightened his arm around her in a silent form of "don't do it."

"Oh, I think you and I will be very good friends." Vlad nodded emphatically before unlocking the vault and pulling out the same staff that had haunted Sam's dreams since she first saw it.

Sam bit back a gasp, but the ghost in the net made no such attempt.

"Wow!" he said, pressing his face against the green netting to get a closer look. Vlad happily obliged, bringing the crimson orb close enough to almost touch the ghost's nose.

"Very good friends indeed." Vlad chuckled, and Valerie's jaw hardened under her creamy dark skin. "Don't you think so, ghost?" the ghost's eyes widened, seeming to absorb the red swirls of the orb. His lips stopped trembling, eyes stopped shining.

"Yes, Master." the oafish ghost nodded, his face a blank mask of obedience. Sam felt Danny's chest tighten in a silent gasp.

"Excellent!" Vlad pulled the staff back, and the ghost's eyes, swirling with a menacing red, followed it like a dog's eyes follow its favorite ball.

"Splendid work today, Valerie. I knew you were a promising subject." He studied her with a smile, the light of the orb bathing his face in crimson.

"Thank you." Valerie spoke, and Sam had been too distracted by the orb to notice that Valerie had unconsciously moved closer to her. Dangerously close.

Sam pulled at Danny's arm, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You're dismissed now, enjoy the rest of your day." Vlad waved her off. "And remember, not a word of this to anyone."

"O-of course not." Valerie nodded hastily and tucked the thermos under her arm. "I'll see you around, Mr. Masters." She turned and Sam realized that Valerie was bound to walk right through her.

Sam clenched and unclenched her hand. The tingling feeling of intangibility was gone.

"Goodbye, dear." Vlad said absentmindedly. He was more focused on the ghost that was now completely under his control. Valerie stepped towards the invisible spectators, and Sam felt a cold sweat run down her neck.

 _"Danny, what's wrong with you?"_ Sam tugged at his hair and cursed. Valerie was only two steps away now, and Danny remained as still as a statue, and as tangible as one, too. Sam didn't have much of a choice.

"Danny!" She hissed in his ear and slapped the back of his head. Danny blinked and rubbed his head, then saw Valerie a foot away. His eyes went wide, and Sam felt the tingle of intangibility just as Valerie stepped into her. Sam held her breath as Valerie stopped, her nose wrinkling in a frown.

"Did you say something?" she glanced over her shoulder, through Sam, her gaze directed at Vlad.

"Hmm?" Vlad raised his eyes to Valerie, but Sam felt like he was staring at her instead. They were standing in the exact same place, so it was a little hard to tell. "I said you're dismissed." he said, eyebrows raised in impatience. Valerie shrugged.

Danny and Sam floated to the ceiling the second Valerie stepped away, and Sam could finally breathe again. She squeezed Danny's hand, and he squeezed back.

Vlad's eyes followed Valerie up the stairs, and the second the door closed behind her, he pressed the a button by the portal and the massive steel doors slid open. Sam blinked wide eyes at the pool of swirling green that the silver doors had hidden. Misty strands filled the room like green tentacles feeling their way around.

"Skulker," Vlad nodded to a metallic figure that rose from the green vortex of the Ghost Zone. Danny tensed, taking in a sharp breath. "Take this one with the others." he nudged the hypnotized ghost with the butt of his staff. "And this." He said, pulling a child's lunchbox out of the closet. "For the lady."

"Yes, Master." The oversized tin can named Skulker replied.

"That's all." Vlad dismissed him with a wave, and closed the portal after Skulker's figure retreated into the green haze. He stood there, staring at the portal with his hands clasped calmly behind him. Sam felt Danny's invisible arm around her waist, pulling her closer. They had seen all they needed to see.

Danny flew them through the ceiling and a few stories past that until he reached open air. Neither of them dared to speak, or even take in a full breath, until their toes touched down on the roof. Danny detangled himself from Sam and sat down on the rough tar tiles of the mansion.

"Oh my God." he muttered, running both hands through his sparkling white hair. Danny pressed his palms against his temples. "Ember was right. She was telling the truth, and I just handed her over to...to _him_!" His green eyes rose to Sam with an intensity that lit her face up in a soft shade of green.

"I need to do something. I need to- I don't know what I need to do." Danny stood up, only to plop back down again, even more defeated than before. "Vlad is all I have."

"You have me." Sam knelt before him, ignoring the bite of the tile against her knees. She raised his face to hers and kissed him softly. "You have Tucker, you have Jazz. You don't need him."

"I would have never given the ghosts over to Vlad if I knew he was doing that to them."

"I know." Sam brushed a strand of white hair out of his face. "That's probably why he didn't tell you." Sam rose to her feet and held her hand out towards him. "We'll figure this out."

"How?"

"I don't know." Sam answered honestly. "But we will." She hoped her uncertainty didn't show through. Even if they did piece this mess together, did they really want to know what the pieces made? Sam shivered. She remembered Ember in chains, Valerie's battered and shaking body, and Vlad's cold eyes watching it all. Danny took her hand and slowly rose to his feet as the first light of dawn peeked over the city in golden rays.

"It'll be alright, Danny." Sam wasn't sure she believed it, but she said it anyway. She just hoped he believed it more than she did. "We'll be alright."

 **A/N: Hello, readers! I'm sorry this chapter is way late, but I had to rewrite it because the first draft was honestly miserable. As you can all probably tell, anything having to do with romance is not my strength...But thank you for reading it anyway! If you have any advice in that area of writing, I'd love to hear it. Thanks again!**


	21. Chapter 21

They went a week, a full, anxiously painful week before even a clue came about Vlad's prisoners.

Danny interrogated every ghost he came, but none of them could give a clue to wear Vlad was holding his, well, _victims_. Even less was known about the people. But the clue, when it finally appeared, came just after lunch on a Wednesday. Danny had pushed away his plate, the food untouched, when his ghost sense went off. He'd made the usual bathroom excuse to avoid questions from Star and Valerie, who now shared the lunch table with the freak, the geek, and the ghost hunter. Danny flew around the school for the rest of lunch without finding a single ghost to release his misplaced aggression on. The clue ended up being less of the ghost, and more of what the ghost left behind in Sam's locker.

"Have you seen Danny?" Sam scanned the hallway for her friend, maybe it was boyfriend now-they hadn't talked about it much with all the betrayals and confusion going on-but saw no sign of him in the crowd.

"Still after that ghost, probably." Tucker said, finishing up the last bit of his sandwich. Sam grumbled and clicked in the combination for her locker.

"I was hoping to see him before class." The locker swung open with the sharp whine of long rusted hinges, and slip of paper fell out, catching the air and flying like a paper airplane.

"What's that?" Tucker snatched at it before Sam could, and missed. Tried again, and missed. Sam snorted as the note fluttered to the floor. Tucker bent down to pick it up, having a much easier time when it was not on the move. "A love letter? From Danny, perhaps?" Tucker wiggled his eyebrows. Sam rolled her eyes and stole it from his hands. Just in case it _was_ from Danny, she didn't want Tucker's eyes on it before she got a chance. It probably wasn't, but it didn't hurt to hope. She squinted at the blank note, turning it over in her hand several times. Her eyes focused on the sole marking, one letter in the middle of the page. Her lips curved into a frown.

"It just says... ' _E_.'"

"Who's E?"  
"I dunno." Sam muttered more to herself than to him. She traced her finger over the scrawling arms of the E.

"Sam, I guess E left a present." Tucker shouldered her aside and reached into her locker. A protest died on her lips when she saw the blue folds of material that poured over the edge of her locker and into Tucker's hands. "A bet you have a secret admirer."

Sam didn't reply. Her eyes stuck to the fabric in his hands like they were glued there. It was a soft blue, a beautiful color that would have been even more beautiful if the stains of time and hard work hadn't marred its smooth surface. Tiny tears dotted the material like stripes, each one carefully mended by delicate hands. Her eyes grazed over the steady stitching.

Sam took it from Tucker's hands gently and held up the stretchy blue material by the sleeves, watching as the rumples cascaded into a cobalt blue...dress? No, a hazmat suit. A _blue_ hazmat suit.

Sam bunched the material in her hands and ran her fingers through it. She thought of Danny, of holding the tatters of his ruined suit after a fight. Of stitching the tears together, even though she knew the suit would fix itself on its own. But it meant something to her, to hold that piece of him, to try again and again to fix the rips in him that would open again no matter how many stitches she put in. Sam squeezed the blue suit. It was the same. A different color, but she knew the feel of that silken material by now. She _knew._

"Tucker," Sam's voice was hoarse. Her hands trembled as she pulled up the hood of the suit. It would have stretched to the top of the head, with two holes around the eyes for glasses. She didn't need to see the name sewn onto the collar to see who it belonged to, but she had to look anyway.

"Maddie Fenton."

. Tears pricked at her eyes. She knew. She remembered.

"Sam? Is..is that?" She could hear the tremble in Tucker's voice as he spoke, reaching over to gently hold the sleeve against his palm.

Sam didn't know what it meant, but she knew that she had to find Danny. Tucker read the look in her eyes, like he had always been able to to, and without another word, they were running. Running through...midair. Sam's gasp was muffled by a cold hand clapped around her mouth. Sam thrashed against the hand, but she felt as if she was trying to fight with someone in outerspace. She was flying afterall, and gravity worked a lot different that way. The school hallway gave way to the ceiling, and soon the ceiling gave way to darkness.

"Mmphmm!" Sam's scream was muffled by the hand, but that didn't keep her from trying.

"Shut up, okay?" the owner of the hand snarled back. The voice was familiar, definitely feminine, but Sam's brain was too scrambled at the moment to place it with a name.

"Mbr?" Tucker murmured/shouted next to her. Their captor's other hand was cupped around his mouth.

Sam blinked her eyes as if that could help her see through the pitch black surrounding her. She fought against the terror manifesting in her stomach, slowly rising and rising up her throat. Another scream bubbled out of her lips, only to be cut short by the icy hand that held her. She thrashed, and the hand finally dropped. The next scream turned into a pained grunt as her butt collided with the ground..or whatever acted as the ground in this particular case.

Sam was instantly to her feet, but ended up stumbling in the darkness and falling back to her knees.

"Where are we?" she shouted at her invisible captor. "Tucker?"

"Sam!"

"Will you two _please_ shut up? I don't have the patience for this-or the time. That Dipstick will be here any second." Sam squinted as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, just in time for a bright blue flash to light up the room. Sam stumbled and fell backwards as she found herself almost nose to nose with a pale, flaming haired girl that looked more than a little pissed off.

"E-ember?" Sam rubbed her eyes. She had to be imagining this! Last time she had seen the ghost rocker, Ember had been a little worse for wear after facing brainwashing.

"No shit."

"Oh man," Tucker griped.

"What do you want?" Sam stepped, more like crawled, a few feet back, fiddling in her jacket pocket for something to fight with. "I thought you were..."

"Brainwashed? That doesn't work for long." Ember snarled. "My whole gig is brainwashing. It's a lot harder to control someone who already knows the game."

"What'd you want with us, then?" Tucker crawled back to be shoulder to shoulder with Sam.

"What'd you think?" she hissed. The blue light of her hair illuminated the...wherever they were. Sam guessed it was the school's attic. Sam noticed the wearied lines that the light showed on Ember's face. Her skin was drawn, pale over her cheekbones, and the bags under her eyes were deep enough to catch raindrops. Sam felt a twinge of sympathy stir in her heart. "I brought you something from the Ghost Zone. To prove that I was telling the truth."

Sam noticed her empty hands, and suddenly it hit her. The blood drained from Sam's face until she was as pale as the ghost before her. She didn't know what made her tremble-the fear, the grief, or the fury. Probably all of them wrapped in one, fighting for dominance inside her. "Oh my God." she croaked.

"E," Ember. The suit, the humans, _Vlad-_ Sam wouldn't have believed it if the proof wasn't right there.

"Ember, we need to find Danny. Like, right now."

"So he can hand me right back to Plasmius? I don't think so." Ember snarled, but her hands shook as she said it. "I came here to show you the proof. You need to know who you're working for."

"Danny had no idea Vlad was doing that to you." Sam shot to her feet, nearly fell again, but managed to keep her balance with sheer willpower. "He's been furious since we found out. He hasn't slept in days trying to figure out what Vlad is doing with the ghosts." Sam's stomach took a nauseating flip as she glanced down at the blue hazmat suit, still curled in her fist. "And the...the people."

"Have you seen them?" Tucker clamored to his feet, taking the suit from Sam's hands and holding it up to their captor. "Are they still alive?" The blue light shimmered on his wet eyes. " _Are they_?"

Ember stared at them a long while before answering, unmoving. Sam bit back her impatience. Ember was their only chance now, the only one that could give them the answers they needed. Sam couldn't risk pushing her too far and making her fly off with the last bit of hope they had.

"I've only seen little glimpses of them." Ember answered quietly, her voice just above a whisper. "I figured something was up when I saw Skulker" Ember bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Sam remembered him as the one Vlad gave the box of, what she guessed was food, to. "carrying in food. Ghosts don't eat, so that was my first hint." Ember nodded to herself. "Plasmius keeps them locked up pretty tight, but I saw them the first time I escaped. They're still alive, as far as I know. But that was a long time ago."

Sam didn't know she was crying until her vision blurred into a blue blob of light.

"You.." Sam wiped at her eyes, knowing that mascara and eyeliner were probably making a mess of her face. " you got this from the woman, didn't you?"

Ember nodded, her lips pressed into a firm line. "I was just going to fly out of that hell as fast as I could go, but I saw the suit just hanging there. I knew no one would believe me if I didn't bring back something. " Ember's eyes darted between the suit and the two people crying over it. "I hoped it would be enough to convince you two, and maybe you would be able to get it through Dipstick's thick head." Ember took their silence as an excuse to continue. Her hair licked at the ceiling.

"He may be an idiot, but he's our best chance. I hate to say it, but he's strong." Ember fixed them with stare that could pin them to the wall. "Crazy strong. He might not listen, but it's worth a shot. That woman," Ember wrapped the sleeve of the jumpsuit around her hand. "there's a kid out there that's missing its parents. I'm sure of it." The circles under Ember's eyes seemed to grow darker as the ghost grit her teeth.

"Two kids." Sam said quietly. Through blurry eyes, she watched her tears make tiny puddles on the jumpsuit before spreading into the material and disappearing.

"You-you _know_ those people?" Ember's eyes shot open into wide, bright green pools. Sam and Tucker nodded.

"That woman," Sam rumpled the fabric under her fists. "is Danny's mother."

The only sound in that attic was the sound of Ember's flaming hair licking at the air around them, curling around the wooden beams that held up the roof. The firm line of her lips weakened slowly until her bottom lip hung in a silent gasp. Her heavy eyes narrowed in confusion before widening with a horrible understanding. Trembling hands dropped into her lap.

"Oh _shit_!" She gasped. An appropriate response, coming from Ember McClain. "This whole time, Dipstick has been..." Ember's hands rose to clutch at her pale cheeks. "And he doesn't know?" She nearly shouted.

"He thinks they're dead." Tucker told her.

"We have to tell him." Sam spluttered frantically. "Ember-"

"He must know I'm here by now. Come on." Ember extended her hands to them. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She muttered under her breath, but considering the silence of the attic, the two humans didn't have to strain to hear it. She shook her head. "I kind of hate that Dipstick, but I hate Plasmius even more."

Sam tied Maddie's suit around her waist and took Ember's hand. A second later, they shot out of the building and into open air. Ember only had a second to catch her bearings before a red ball of light ripped through the air and nailed her right in the chest. She dropped Sam and Tucker as she was sent tumbling backwards through the air. Her two captives fell to the roof with a resounding _thud._ Sam felt the pain in her ribs, and groaned as the hot tar and rough tiles dug into her back.

"Coming back for round two, ghost?"

Sam groaned again. Valerie. It had to be Valerie.

"I'm not here for you." Ember snarled. "Get lost." Her black shirt sported a smoking hole just below her neck. Sam's eyes widened as Valerie flew, yes, _flew_ over her head on what looked like a floating surfboard. Armed with the red suit and a whole arsenal of weapons on her belt, Valerie proved to be an intimidating sight. Sam and Tucker glanced at each other, both having wide eyes and bitten lips. Apparently Valerie hadn't spotted them yet.

"I think you should _go find Danny_ while I take care of _business_." Ember said through gritted teeth. It took Sam a second to realize that Ember's statement was directed at them rather than Valerie. Ember's eyes flicked to Sam's for only a second. Sam nodded, and Ember took off, soaring through the air. She faltered for a second, and Sam couldn't tell if she was just waiting for Valerie to take chase, or if Ember was feeling a lot weaker than she let on. Sam watched her for a second, the two figures quickly retreating into the sky. Sam chewed her lip, thinking once again about those bags under Ember's eyes, her pale skin tight against her bones.

 _"She'll be fine."_ Sam told herself. "Come on, Tuck." Sam snatched up the jumpsuit that she had dropped in her fall. "We gotta find a way off this roof and get Danny." She ignored the tar burning her knees as she peered over the edge. It was a long drop, and unlike some people, she didn't have superpowers or cool hoverboards.

"Or we could just call him."

"Oh." Sam froze mid step, thinking herself rather foolish."Right."

"Thank you, 21st century." Tucker chimed, pulling out his cell phone. "It's ringing." Sam raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Damn. He didn't answer."

"Try again!"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Tucker typed in a few more buttons and held it up to his ear, pacing the roof and rubbing the sweat from his forehead with his free hand. Sam scanned the skies for any sign of him.

"Come on, Danny." Tucker muttered, punching in the buttons with much more force this time. "Finally, dude! I've called you three times already."

Sam silently cheered. "Look, Sam and I are stuck on the roof...yeah, the roof. I'll explain later, okay? But we really need to talk to you. Like, right now." He looked to Sam and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, she's fine. I'm fine too, thanks for asking...But hurry up, we've got something really-"

"How'd you guys even get up here?" Sam jumped as Danny appeared behind her in all of his ghostly glory. "There's not even a ladder or anything."

"Ember dropped us off." Sam scrambled to her feet.

"Em-EMBER?" Danny's green eyes scanned the sky. "Where? How? Sam-are you crying?"

"Danny," Sam spoke as calmly as she could. Given the news she had to tell, Sam figured she would have to be the calm one out of the two of them. "Ember came to find us, and to show us this." Sam draped the jumpsuit over his arms. His eyes stayed on her face for a long time before he brought them down to the fabric stretched over his arms. His brow furrowed as his eyes stared at the suit he held in his arms. His lips muttered wordlessly, thoughts for only him to hear. Sam's jaw clenched as she watched him clutch the suit in two trembling fists.

"This," he shook his head, blinking. "This is my mother's." The glow around him seemed to soften and dissipate into the air. He brought the hazmat suit to his chest and held it there tightly, like it would fly away if he loosened his grip for even a second. "How?" Sam fought the urge to cry when his wide, glistening eyes rose up to hers. She suddenly found it very difficult to speak.

"Danny," Tucker came to her rescue. Laying a supporting hand on Danny's shoulder, Tucker's mouth pressed into a grim line. "Maybe you should sit down. We have a lot to talk about."

* * *

Sam couldn't think of a time when she'd seen Danny angry. Even as a child, as spoiled as children tended to be, Danny just never seemed to have it in him to be angry. Over time, she had assumed that he was just one of those crazy people who somehow never got mad, but when he flew off the roof, carrying Sam and Tucker with him, and barged through Vlad's laboratory door with hell fire in his eyes, he was far beyond angry. Furious, enraged, something like that.

Sam and Tucker followed behind, nearly sprinting to keep up as Danny pulled the secret lever to Vlad's lab down. The lever, a Packer's football encased in glass, shattered and popped when his fingers touched the glass surface. The towering steel doors slid open with a bang.

"Vlad." Danny growled in a voice that would make Sam want to run for her life if she was in the millionaire's position.

"Daniel!" Vlad exclaimed with a wavering smile, stepping hastily in front of Danny. An awfully familiar crimson glow radiated from the folded hands behind Vlad's back. "Shouldn't you be in school?" Danny chose to ignore that question. He marched up to Vlad so close that they were nearly nose to nose, neither of them backing down. Neither of them wavering.

"Vlad, care to explain _this_?" Danny shoved the rumpled blue material of his mother's suit in Vlad's face. His only answer was silence. Sam waited in the quiet, feeling the rage rippling off her friend, only getting stronger every second Vlad stalled. She felt it like a presence, an invisible being, turning the air around them numbing cold.

"My," Vlad placed his hand over the suit and slowly lowered it from his face. "my boy-"

"I'm not _your boy_." Danny spat. "I need answers, Vlad. _Now_. Starting with why my mother's suit was found in the same prison that you've been lying to me about this whole time. The prison full of ghosts that _I_ caught, by the way."

Vlad composed his salesman smile, and the innocently raised hands, but he couldn't cover the fact that his face had gone more pale than any ghost Sam had ever seen. Which was a lot of ghosts, considering she was a life long resident of Amity Park.

"Now, Daniel, I know this all seems a bit overwhelming," he chuckled nervously, "but you of all people know that things aren't always what they seem."

"Where are my parents, Vlad?" Danny's voice was quiet. The low, terrifying quiet of one who has lost all patience. Vlad's smile faltered, and then fell entirely. His shoulders slumped as he gently shook his head, silver ponytail glittering red from the staff behind his back.

"Like I told you two years ago, my b-" Vlad cleared his throat, catching himself before he could cause further damage with names. "-Daniel, your parents were killed in the accident. Crushed under the rubble of the house."

"And the bodies were-"  
"Crushed beyond recognition." Vlad laid a hand on Danny's shoulder, but quickly retracted when the boy flinched away. "I know the pain still haunts you, Daniel. So much. And it's so terribly easy to fall for lies." he blinked slowly, as if it really did pain him to say so. "But lies of hope are still lies, Little Badger." The red glowed brighter. Sam looked past Danny to see the glowing orb of the Staff peeking at Danny from behind Vlad's hip. "Let's forget about this painful lie, yes?"

Danny's shoulders fell. The cold eased slowly, receding back towards Danny's core. Sam reached for him as his face turned red under the glow of the staff. The room suddenly grew warm again, and Sam remembered the way the staff captivated him. His eyes were fixed on it, even then. Sam's grip tightened around his arm. He didn't move.

"Danny." she said his name softly.

"Put this behind you, Danny. You're letting the past drag you down." Vlad spoke over her. "Think of your future, my boy." He raised the staff, not bothering to hide it anymore. "Think of us-"

The staff suddenly lurched out of Vlad's ringed hands, dragging Danny's eyes with it as it flew across the room. Vlad was after it the second it left his grip, leaving the thrashing, shrieking prisoner behind him out in the open.

"Ember!" Sam gasped. She guessed it was Ember's boot that had sent the staff flying in the few precious seconds of consciousness Vlad gave her as he took the staff from her sight to Danny's. She silently thanked the girl in her head.

"Mph!" Ember's whole body thrashed against the glowing restraints that tied her to the chair, her head shaking and pressing against the cloth wrapped around her mouth. Sam did her the favor of tearing it away.

"Dipstick" Ember cried breathlessly. "Don't listen to him! He's-"

"Daniel, she's only trying to trick you. Who do you trust, some ghost who's been trying to kill you, or the man that's cared for you since your parents died?"

"I'll decide that once I figure out if they're really dead or not!" Danny shot back, his own conscious taking over again.

"Danny, do you think really think I would have come back if I didn't _know_ that your parents were alive?" Ember's chest heaved against the restraints. Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped down the sides of her pale face. Sam fell to her knees, struggling to untie Ember's heavy chains.

"She fabricated this suit to deceive you." Vlad snarled.

"I've seen them, Dipstick." Ember's breathing was growing more labored by the minute. Her hair, once a bright flame, slowly diminished into a tiny ponytail. Wet bangs matted her forehead, the fire in them already gone. "The woman, she has red hair..." her chest heaved in another gasp of breath. Sam realized that the green chains grew brighter as her breaths got shakier and her hair grew smaller, losing its flame. Somehow it was draining her. Sam begged her hands to work faster.

"...and...the most peculiar eyes...purple. Like Sam's...and-"

"Liar!" Vlad roared. He was suddenly there, tossing Sam away from Ember like she was a ragdoll.

"SAM!" Danny and Tucker screamed. Danny flew to catch her before she hit the wall, but Vlad stood in his way.

"Move!"

"Daniel, please-"

Tucker threw himself against Vlad, the only thing standing in between him and Sam. The two fell with a crash and screamed curses, a flurry of kicks and punches and everything Tucker had in him. Danny flew faster than he ever had before, but all he could do was pick Sam's limp body up off the ground. He cradled her head, holding the ebony strands of her hair that were now streaked with a sickening red.

"Get off me!" Vlad caught Tucker by the wrist and threw him to the hard floor. "Let me talk to my son!"

"He's not your son." Tucker panted, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Not now and not ever. Danny's a hero, and you're nothing but a-"

"Enough!" Vlad raised the staff over Tucker's head with both hands, but Tucker just stared up at him with a ferocity that would have made Sam proud, if she could have seen him through the blood pouring in her eyes. But Sam could only hear Danny's voice, muttering her name over and over as his hands fervently wiped at her forehead. Then, suddenly there was only one hand pressing against her forehead. A rippling cold washed over her, the kind the made her gasp and rose goosebumps on her arms. A flash that Sam saw even with the red blur in her eyes, and then a shout.

Her hands moved slow, but Sam managed to wipe at her eyes and blink most of the blurriness away in time to see Vlad crash against the wall, his tuxedo suit smoking from a glowing hole in the back. Tucker's wide eyes found something behind her, and he nodded at whatever it was before crawling away from Vlad's growling figure. Sam turned her head, despite the pain racing through it, and guessed that Tucker was looking at Danny, who knelt beside her with one hand on her head and the other one extended in Vlad's direction. The hand was clad in a silver glove, glowing with green light so intense it made her eyes sting.

"Boy.." Vlad's growl only grew more ferocious as he struggled to his feet. Sam, in her delirious state, could have confused it with the growl of a tiger, or some other wild animal. Sam's eyes were torn between the rising man, and Tucker, who had finally managed to pry the iridescent chains from Ember's body. The chains were vibrant now, pulsating with the same blue light that had vanished from Ember's hair.

Ember tumbled from the chair. She fell to her hands and knees, limp hair falling around her face like wet string

"Tucker," Sam heard Danny's voice in her ears, in her head, reverberating through her whole body. She didn't know if that was good or bad. She didn't really know anything at that point, except that the air felt as thick as honey. "get them out of here." For some reason, Sam wanted to protest against that, but her lips felt too heavy to move.

Then arms were around her, but they didn't feel like Danny's arms. She somewhat stumbled to her feet, and kept stumbling with only the help of the arms to keep her up. She heard shouting, and flashes of light. Her eyes were getting blurry again. Thick, red splotches clouded her vision.

"Oh, Sam." Another voice bounced around in her head, full of concern. Tucker's.

"Tucker," she slurred. "Danny." she heard Danny's voice somewhere behind her. Why was he yelling? "Is...Danny...with us?"

"He will be." Tucker answered. She wondered why his voice was so shaky. Sam tripped over herself, but Tucker caught her. She heard another grumble, and blearily recognized the blob of blue on Tucker's other arm as Ember.

"But..Vlad has the staff..and Danny," Sam lost her train of thought for a second as she swiped at that painful itch on her forehead. The shouting was quieter now, but Sam could still hear it somewhere behind her. Then she remembered.

"Tucker!" Sam struggled in his arms, trying in vain to run back to Danny. But she couldn't see where she was going, and Tucker had gotten a lot stronger than she last remembered. "We can't leave Danny! The staff, it...it's..not good.." And then the red suddenly turned to black, and she didn't feel anything after that.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading!**


	22. Chapter 22

Sam's first thought when she woke up with soft linen sheets curled around her was that her head felt like it had gotten in a fight with a sledgehammer and lost. Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach up and see if her head was still the right shape, but she couldn't move any more than that feeble twitch of her fingers.

"Thanks, Jazz." Tucker sighed, sounding defeated to Sam's listening ears. She recognized his voice instantly. "I don't know, she's still asleep." Her lips felt glued together. She wet them with her tongue several times before she could manage to crack them open just the slightest bit. She groaned. "Woah-I think she's up. I'll talk to you later, Jazz."

There was silence for a second, and then Sam felt a cold hand on her forehead. The familiarity of the gesture sent her grasping for a memory in the back of her mind. A nagging thought of something just out of her reach. Her fingers twitched again, as if she could reach into her own mind and pull the memory out of its hiding place. Then the hand was gone, and the trace went with it.

"Sam?"

"Uh." She went for a "yeah?," but her voice was as weak as the rest of her. Weak and dry. Scratchy, like she had swallowed the Sahara Desert in her sleep. Her throat hurt, her head hurt, her eyes hurt. Her eyes felt like they were burning. The back of her eyelids were a bright, burning orange that she would have happily traded for the cool darkness she had just awoken from. Tucker sighed.

"You had me really worried, Sam." He said shakily. She moved her whole hand on her next try, and soon mustered the strength to raise her hand to her burning eyes.

"Uh." she muttered angrily at the orange.

"Oh, sorry." Tucker mumbled quickly. Shuffling feet, and then the orange light was gone. Sam eyelids slowly slid open, just a crack at first. All she saw was white all blurred together. She wiped her eyes with the freed hand and blinked them open to reveal Tucker, one hand tugging the curtain over the window, and the other one desperately clutching his cell phone.

"Where?" she hissed as her eyes leisurely took in the rest of her surroundings. White walls, white ceiling, and a small TV mounted to the wall. She was in a bed, but not like the bed that waited for her at home. Her bed at home was huge and mounted with pillows and thick purple sheets- a complete contrast to the hard mattress and thin white sheets that did nothing to keep her warm. She tugged at the sheets, pulling them down just enough to show the pastel green gown covering her chest (which felt just as thin as the sheets). A pronounced and much too repetitive beeping sound registered in her ears about the same time her eyes fell on the vials of medicines lining the cabinet before her. But in the end, it was the nauseous look on Tucker's face that finally made it click. "I'm..in... the hospital." Her faint voice rasped.

Tucker nodded a little too quickly. The motion made her head swim.

"Yeah, you're in the...the, uh, _hospital_." He said the word in a whisper. Tucker had never grown out of his childhood fear of hospitals and all things related to such. Especially needles.

"You should have some water." He took a glass from the bedside table and set it to her lips. "You sound awful."

"Feel awful, too." Sam croaked. She hadn't realized how much she needed it until Sam had drained the whole icy glass. Still, it did little to ease the Sahara in her throat.

"Why am I here?" She rasped and tried to sit up-a mistake by all means.

"Slow down!" Tucker caught her by the shoulders before she could tumble out of the bed. "Geez. You just woke up. Give it a minute, okay?"

Sam wanted to nod, but her head already hurt too much. She smiled with cracked lips. He was so concerned with his wide eyes and gentle frown. He sounded like Danny.

"Like...Danny." the thought echoed in her mind. And then, suddenly, that thought and that name stumbled upon the missing memory hiding in the back of her mind. The nagging feeling that spurned the cold hand. Sam blinked, and in that millisecond of darkness, everything came back to her in flashes of color. The brilliant blue of Ember's fading flames, the glowing of chains that bound her so tightly. Red and green, silver and black. Danny's eyes, radiating with otherworldly green wrath, and the crimson staff that swirled in Vlad's hands, in his eyes.

"Danny!" Sam gasped as the memories left her breathless. "Tucker, where is he?" her eyes were already searching the room, but she saw no one but her friend in the beat-up red beret. Her eyes flew back to the boy frantically. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the floor, jaw pressing a firm line against his dark skin. "Tucker?" She drew the word out slowly, feeling her stomach twist into a knot. "Where's Danny?"

Silence.

"Tucker!"

"I don't know." he answered finally. His bottom lip disappeared under clenched teeth.

"You _don't know_?" Sam's throat burned with the rise of her hysteria. Her hands trembled as they clenched the sheets in tight fists.

"No. I-I don't know, okay?" He pulled off his tattered beret and balled it in his fist before throwing it to the ground "I went back after you were settled, but he was... gone." He turned his back to her in favor of staring at where the window should be, hidden behind a mass of curtains.

"And Vlad?" she asked quietly, fearing the answer.

"Gone."

Her lungs felt like they were being squeezed by frozen hands. Her knuckles turned white as she dug her nails into her knees.

"I talked to Jazz and told her what happened while you were out." Tucker said quietly. "She's coming down right now."

Sam's white knuckles moved from her knees to the railing on her bed in another attempt to rise, but only ended up holding her mouth as the contents of her stomach leaped from her belly and crawled up her raw throat.

"Sam!" Tucker chided, abandoning his position by the window and rushing to her side once again. "Seriously, take it easy." He lowered her back onto the pillow. "You have a bad concussion."

"Bad?" Sam groaned, rubbing the bright yellow spots from her eyes.

"Bad enough that the doctors want to keep you another night."

"No." She moaned. She didn't have another night. Not when Danny was out there- _somewhere_ -probably in some horrible danger, or hurt, or-It took a second for the whole meaning of his words to seep in. Her eyes shot open, and this time she ignored the yellow polka dots. " _Another_ night?"

Tucker nodded, his lips a grim line.

"Look," he said softly. He tugged at the curtain, and light streamed in the room once again. Sam's eyes watered, but she refused to close them. "Morning."

When her eyes finally adjusted, they fell upon the wide expanse of buildings beneath her four-story window, all gleaming and shimmering rosy in the morning glow.

"Oh my God..." Sam groaned, pressing the pillow against her face as fresh tears wet her lilac eyes. And these weren't from the sunlight. "I've been here all night, and Danny's-"

"who the hell knows where." Tucker finished for her. He dropped his forehead against the window. Sam watched his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, but they still wavered under the weight of tears pressing against them. Guilt settled around her when she saw the heavy, dark bags lining the skin under his eyes. Her own eyes dropped to the floor, where a spare pillow and blanket were strewn over the cold ground.

"I'm sorry." she choked. "I shouldn't have..I don't blame you. For anything."

Tucker only shook his head, his forehead still pressed against the glass on the window. His lip trembled, but he was silent.

"And what about Ember?" Sam asked, hoping to drag his mind away from the thought of Danny. She remembered the weak state of the ghost, how the glowing chains had almost sucked her energy dry.

"She's fine..I think." Tucker slumped on the ground with his back against the wall. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "She flew us here, and she didn't look too good after that. She vanished before I could even say thank you. But she left this." he fished in his pocket for a little slip of paper. He had to stretch to hand it over to Sam, and she had to squint her blurry eyes to make out the scrawled writing.

"A phone number?" Sam wrinkled her nose. "I didn't think ghosts had phones."

"She didn't stick around long enough for me to ask." Tucker sighed. "I haven't tried it yet. It's probably a bluff."

"We'll have to try it later." Sam held it out and Tucker took it. "Where are my clothes?" she picked at the thin gown.

"The nurse took them."

"We have to get them back."

"Sam," Tucker said tiredly, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "You can't even stand up. We can't-"

"Then we'll see if there's a wheelchair for rent."

"Just _wait_ , Sam!" Tucker snapped. "You don't think I'm just as freaked out as you? We have no idea where Danny or Vlad-Plasmius- _whatever_ is, and you're stuck in the freaking hospital." He dug his fingers into the tight ringlets of curls that his beret had always hidden. "Let's just wait until Jazz gets here, and then we can figure this all out."

Sam's face fell, her cheeks a soft red. He was right. Danny was his friend too. His eyes were downcast, making the bags even darker. He looked exhausted.

"Tuck, I'm sorry." Sam said quietly. "I know this is hard for you, too." He only nodded in silence. "Get some sleep, and I'll wait for Jazz." Tucker's lips parted in protest, but he read the hard glint in Sam's eyes and knew it would be useless to argue. His head fell to the pillow on the bedside chair, and within seconds Sam heard his breaths fall into the rhythm of sleep.

She stared at the ceiling, not blinking until the white paint blurred into a haze. She thought of Danny, his bright blue eyes. Or green, depending on his persona. Everything had just been starting to go right, and then Vlad happened.

 _"Bastard."_ Sam thought. She pictured his faux smile, scheming eyes, and wanted to punch a wall. Only that required her to get out of bed, which she couldn't do at the moment.

 _"Danny.."_ Sam choked as a new set of tears wet her eyes. He could be hurt, fighting for his life, and all she could do was lay there without a clue. Useless.

She pictured him lying, broken on the lab floor as Vlad towered over him. Danny was more than capable of defending himself, she knew, but still...Vlad had that awful staff. She pictured it, swirling red, casting scarlet shadows on his face, in his eyes. Consuming him. Controlling him in its own way. Sam closed her eyes as she pictured his face distorted by the shadows of the staff. She wondered if Vlad controlled the staff, or if the staff controlled him. Either way, Danny was at the disadvantage. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks, leaving little trails as they cascaded down to her chin.

 _"He could have gotten away."_ Sam thought, and a little spark of hope blossomed in her heart. He was strong. Everyone knew that-especially her. But he wasn't invincible, and she understood that even more than he did. _"He could have gone to find his parents."_ The spark suggested. That must be it. Maybe he wasn't invincible, but he was hero, and heroes don't lose. Right?

"Sam!"

The voice made her leap out of the sheets. It startled Tucker from his sleep too, and he tumbled out of his makeshift bed with a groan. Sam clutched at her aching head as the one behind the voice rushed to her bedside in a blur of red hair. "Where's the TV remote?"

"What?" Sam thought she must have heard wrong.

"Hi, Jazz." Tucker said weakly, still curled in a ball on the floor.

"The remote. For the TV." Jazz gestured with furious hand motions at the TV, at Sam, and everywhere else around the room.

"I-I don't know." Sam muttered. She rubbed her eyes, thinking that maybe Jazz and her strange requests were just a figment of her imagination, plus all the painkillers she was probably on. But when she blinked the bleariness away, Jazz was still there, tapping her foot with impatience. "Danny is _missing_ , and you're looking for the remote?" Sam asked incredibly as Jazz threw up her hands in annoyance and pulled the sheets apart, looking for it by herself.

"Found it." Tucker muttered. His hand grasped at the bed railing, slowly pulling himself up from the floor. "Here." He handed the thin, black remote to a very flustered and impatient Jasmine Fenton.

"You guys need to see this." Jazz clicked the remote's on button several times before a grainy image formed on the screen. She flipped through the channels, mostly static or just horrible quality, until she rested on the news channel.

"...one of the quickest battles we've ever seen early this morning." a female voice announced over the poor audio system of the tiny TV.

"Well, he skipped his usual pre-battle witty banter, which subtracts a bit of time." the picture quality slowly increased, so that the pixely blob of yellow shaped into Lance Thunder, the blonde weather man that tended to have more stories on ghosts than actual weather.

"We never know what to expect from him, do we?" Shelly Makamoto, the host of Ghost Watch, laughed as if an unpredictable ghost teen superhero was a completely normal thing. "Let's take a look at that video again."

The picture changed to an even worse quality video, but the star of it was undeniable.

"Danny!" Tucker and Sam shouted, Sam with as little voice as she had. Jazz quieted them, and they watched in awe as Danny trapped several ghosts that none of them had ever seen before. They went with hardly a fight, and Danny had the lid on the thermos in a matter of seconds. He didn't spare the camera a wave, as he often did, but just a quick glance before he was off.

Even for just a glimpse, and at such low quality, Sam still noticed something wrong. By the silence in the hospital room, the other two had the same thought.

"He didn't stick around for long, did he?" Shelly's voice came through the speakers.

"Does he ever?" Lance chuckled back. The camera was paused, stuck on Danny's figure, head turned over his shoulder in a quick glance before he flew away. Shelly and Lance went on chatting, but Sam wasn't listening. Her eyes were stuck on his face, unharmed, but...Sam blinked and squinted. Same black and silver suit. Same soft, glimmering white hair that could have been sewn from moonlight itself. Then she saw it, just as the image disappeared from the screen.

His eyes. The brilliant green, like the light of an emerald fire, was gone. Maybe it was the poor quality of the video, or the painkillers doing funny things to her head, but Sam swore his beautiful eyes were stained a crimson red.

 **A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than usual. I hope that's okay. Thank you all for reading, and see you again soon!**


	23. Chapter 23

Sam was seriously starting to wonder if Ember was really trying to help, or if she just wanted to kill them and get on with her afterlife. But given the circumstances, Sam didn't have much of a choice but to listen. She'd spent too much time chasing after Danny, nearly having him in her grasp, only for him to glance at her with those empty red eyes and vanish. Jazz and Tucker had the same, or even less luck. It was like he didn't even recognize them.

Vlad was nowhere to be seen, and the only time Danny made an appearance was when he was catching a ghost. He never went back to Vlad's mansion-they had searched every nook and cranny for days-and never showed his face in school.

Even the town, as clueless as Amity's citizens were, had noticed a difference. Phantom's small talk, his witty banter was apparently a thing of the past. He hadn't spoken a word since the red eyes appeared. But the town, and the school, had talked enough for him.

So when Ember offered a solution, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had been more than willing to listen. She definitely hadn't expected Ember's plan to start with her standing underneath a pile of rubble, toes on the edge of death-literally.

"This has been here t-the whole time?" Tucker said, gaping at the swirling green vortex licking at his boots. Sam had only seen something like it twice before, both times in Vlad Master's lab. Or, as she liked to call him now, That Rotten Bastard Plasmius' lab.

"Where'd you think all the ghosts came from, Dumbass?" Ember retorted.

Sam shivered as dust rained down from overhead and sprinkled her hair with gray specks. She was surprised the whole thing hadn't collapsed already and crushed them, but it had stood, or somewhat stood, for two years already. She just hoped it wouldn't fail now. But if it did...the rubble was so thick that Ember had to fly them through with intangibility. Their bodies would never be found. Crushed beyond recognition. Sam shivered again, remembering that Vlad used the same words to describe Danny's parents. They had died in the very same place that she stood now-or so he had told Danny.

Sam glanced over at Jazz, her face pale and drawn, eyes shining with tears. The green light flowed from the portal and turned her cheekbones the same color as Danny's ghost eyes. Before the red.

"You okay?" Sam asked softly. Jazz only spared her a brief glance before casting her eyes to the portal.

"I'll be okay when I get my brother back."

Sam's fingers wrapped around Jazz's, and she gave them a gently squeeze. Jazz needed all the support she could get. She was strong because she had to be, but even her strength had limits. Standing in the rubble of her old home, clinging to the hope that the portal, the same portal that had destroyed her home in the first place, might lead her to her little brother. She had to be strong for him. For her parents, and for Danny.

"Do exactly what I say, and don't even _think_ about floating off on your own, because then you'll die and be lost forever, and then I'll have to explain how I got you killed to Dipstick." Ember bossed, linking her arms through Sam and Jazz. "And he'd never leave me alone for that. So don't do it. Got it?"

"Got it." three voices responded.

"Good. Let's go already."

All Sam saw was green. Bright green, dark green, shades of green she hadn't known existed. She was actually turning one of those shades as Ember flew them through the swirling mists of the Ghost Zone. Sam held her breath until she couldn't hold it anymore. Despite the ominously poisonous appearance of the green haze, it was apparently breathable. She vaguely wondered why ghosts needed oxygen, and why there were random doors floating about, but her mind was busy with other things, so she filed those thoughts into the "ponder later" category of her brain.

"Is it usually this...quiet?" Jazz asked. Sam thought that was a much better question than her oxygen and door one. She saw not a single soul floating in the folds of the Ghost Zone. It was, well, _dead._

"No." was all Ember said.

"Is that bad?" Tucker contributed, mirroring Sam's own thought.

Ember stared straight ahead, scanning with narrowed eyes. She slowed her pace just a little.

"Bad. And kind of good, depending on how you look at it." Three sets of eyes zeroed in on her, and Ember sighed when she realized that they were expecting a more elaborate explanation. "Good because we'll get there a hell of a lot faster without anybody in the way." Ember flew them around a floating purple door that could have fit a giant. "Bad because Plasmius must be even farther along than we thought." Sam's mouth stitched closed at that. Her face was beginning to blend in with the green shadows of the Ghost Zone.

"All the ghosts with half a brain have already tucked tail and hidden in their realms." Ember glanced at Sam with cocked eyebrow. "Or yours."

"Great."

An ectopus darted past her, just under her feet. It reminded her of the ones she had fought with Danny, and Sam had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep them from misting again.

"That would be one of the brainless ones." Ember's face took on the ghost of a smile as she saw the smaller ghost go past. Sam glanced down, and immediately wished she hadn't.

They were passing just a few feet above a small floating island that was dotted with purple headstones of all sizes. As she watched, a bony, bright green hand shot from the dirt. Sam gulped at forced her eyes away, choosing to watch the ever moving black and green shadows instead. She had visited the Winchester house once, and the random floating doors and staircases of the Ghost Zone reminded her of that house. A lost soul with dead eyes wandered aimlessly past, and Sam found herself inching closer and closer to Ember the farther they went into the Ghost Zone.

Ember, though, only seemed slightly less uncomfortable than Sam. Her eyes, narrow and scheming, constantly darted to the doors and islands as if an ambush was waiting at any one of them. Three times they had to hide as a militia of ghosts with red eyes stormed past. They found sanctuary behind the floating doors, but often times what they found behind the door had them running, or flying, out the second they had the chance. Those left uncaptured were not very friendly towards uninvited guests.

Sam was beginning to slow, feeling the weight of her weapons dragging her down when Jazz let out a sudden gasp.

"Is that it?" she whispered, but even her quiet voice was a shout compared to the utter silence of the Ghost Zone. Like it was holding its breath, waiting, hiding, watching.

"Walker's Prison." Ember nodded, her eyes hard. "Walker was the warden before Plasmius took over." She pulled them behind the shelter of towering chunk of rock, eternally suspended in the flow of the Ghost Zone.

"You think Danny's there?" Sam hoped her voice didn't sound too desperate. She flinched at the shake of her own voice and dug her nails into the rock.

"I don't know about the Dipstick. But his... _parents_ are." Ember's face was pale, not unlike the time she was chained in Vlad's lab, her energy being drained by her own restraints. But then, it had been fear and pain in her eyes. This time, it was the fear and fury that shone beneath the surface of her narrowed eyes.

"Fenton phones connected?" Jazz asked, touching her own earpiece to check.

"Got it."

"Yeah."

"This hideous thing?"

"Yes, Ember."

"Okay. Got it."

Sam peeked past the rock just enough for her eyes to peer over and took in the sight of a prison, suspended on its own. Its purple walls glowed with an ethereal beauty-captivating, but terrifying at the same time. Prowling like a tiger, its danger cloaked under a mask of intoxicating mystery. Silent, but far from empty. Sam's eyes widened as she took notice of figures lurking by the open gates. She guessed there were hundreds of ghosts just standing silently, completely still.

"What's going on?" Sam nudged Tucker and pointed a finger at the ghostly crowd. Tucker's eyes flew open.

"Ember!" he hissed over his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"How am I supposed to know, idiot?" she spat. But the crowd had taken her full attention, and Sam swore her flaming ponytail dimmed at the sight. "We'll sneak around the back."

She was met with three nods. Her arms linked around theirs, and the tingle of invisibility ran up Sam's spine and coursed through her whole body. The feeling reminded her of Danny. How she wished he could be there.

"Be silent." Ember whispered to them as they took off. They flew under fortress to avoid the prying eyes of the guards. Even with invisibility, they wanted no chance that the guards could detect them.

"...with me, with him, who could stop us?" A voice spoke. The roar of the crowd shook the prison. If Sam hadn't been concerned that the whole thing would fall down on her, she would have recognized the voice earlier. "Together, we're an unstoppable force. No power in the Ghost Zone, and no power of _man_ ," the speaker spat the name, and the crowd cheered again. "could ever stand between us!"

"Sam!" Tucker stole her attention with a gasp. "That voice-is...that has to be Vlad."

"We will take back what's ours, and never again have to grovel at the feet of man."

Sam gulped. She couldn't hear her heart over the screams of the army, but she could feel it pounding against her chest.

"What's he-"

"We don't have time for this!" Ember yanked them along with her. "I told you he's trouble. Let's just get in and get out while we have the chance."

Sam reluctantly obeyed, if only because she would be totally lost without Ember, and Ember was not in a bargaining mood. She never had been, as far as Sam knew, but especially not that day.

"In here. Hold your nose." Ember brought them up from under the prison and shoved them to a tiny hole, barely enough for a small adult to squeeze through. Sam blinked back tears as a rancid smell wafted through, burning her nostrils. "This is the best way, trust me. I used this to escape last time, because there's always guards at the doors." Ember prodded Sam in the back with her elbow.

Taking a big breath, Sam held her nose and wiggled her way through. The other side was dark, so dark that she couldn't even see her own feet. But she could smell, and it was not a pleasant scent.

"Ugh." Tucker exclaimed as he forced his way through the hole.

"Be quiet, Tuck." Sam's voice came out nasally and squeaky from holding her nose. She felt around for his arm, touched something squishy and wet that made a popping sound when she pulled her hand away. She fought the urge to gag. Tucker's hand found hers a few seconds later.

"Jazz?"

"Almost...there." There was a loud squish, followed by a muffled squeal from Jazz. The prison shook again with the crowd's roar, and didn't stop until long after Ember had appeared through the opening. Her hair illuminated the space, shining light on all the rotting food that kept squishing under Sam's feet. Sam had to cover her mouth to keep from vomiting.

 _"And I thought the school food was gross."_ she lamented, staring uneasily at the gray mush under her combat boots.

"Food dump." Ember explained. She was holding her nose as well. "Ghosts eat too." She shrugged. "Sometimes." The ghost started walking, more like trudging, through the muck that piled all the way to the ceiling in some places. "We'll go up that chute right there and split into groups. Sounds good?"

 _"Not really."_ Sam thought, but she didn't have much of a choice.

"I'll be with Sam." Tucker said. Sam nodded, squeezing his hand in gratitude.

"Me and you, then." Ember graced Jazz with a feral grin. Jazz nodded extremely unenthusiastically.

It was decided that Sam and Tucker, the fleshies, as Ember put it, would go left, while she and Jazz would go right. They would meet back at the rock in an hour, whether they found anything or not.

The pep rally that Vlad had put on seemed to be a better cover than anything they would have been able to scheme up. The first reason being that the guards, the few of them that weren't partaking in or watching over the rally, payed more attention to their drinks and their chatter than the two human figures slinking around the corner right next to them. That, and the raucous of shouting and thunderous applause that occurred every few seconds covered up the sounds of their footsteps, just in case a guard had had a little less to drink than the others, and was just slightly more observant. It seemed as though even the lighting was on their side. As much as Tucker hated the dimly lit to near pitch black corridors and cells, the lack of light blended their swiftly moving figures into the rest of the shadows, making almost unnoticeable if someone wasn't looking. Which, thankfully, the guards weren't.

All was going smoothly. That is, until an alarm bell ripped through the prison, knocking every sleeping or drunken guard from their chairs. Sam swore, pulling Tucker against the shadows of the walls as the guards only a few feet away jumped to attention. Even the roar of the crowd grew silent as the bell tolled, and Sam silently prayed that Jazz and Ember weren't the cause of that bell. But the chances of that were not favorable.

"Get moving!" a guard shouted to another.

"Go! Go! Go!" the leader of the group shouted, dropping his glass of green liquid in the excitement. Sam pressed her back against the wall as if she could melt into it, and to her great surprise, she did.

Her hand muffled Tucker's shout as they phased through the walls together. The shouts from the other side faded as they fell through and smacked against the floor on the next room over. She rose shakily to her feet and dusted herself off. As lucky as that was, it seemed to have taken up the rest of their luck for the day, because out of all the rooms they could have stumbled into, it had to be the room hosting a card game for at least a dozen guards.

"Shit!" Sam swore under her breath.

"Uh," Tucker chuckled nervously at the slaw-jawed guards. "Room service?"

A dozen batons raised in response.

Sam latched on to Tucker's wrist and hoped with all the hope in her little heart that her theory was correct. She ignored Tucker's shouting, the bell blasting, and the guards' exclamations of "STOP, CRIMINALS!" and ran straight into the wall. Or, straight _through_ the wall would be a better way to describe it.

"YES!" Sam cheered as they left the shouts of the guards behind them.

"How'd you do that!" Tucker followed close at her heels, glancing back in awe at the wall.

"We're in the Ghost Zone, Tucker." She grinned, despite the sounds of a dozen guards' footsteps racing down the corridor behind her. "That makes _us_ the ghosts!"

They ducked through another wall as a different group of guards attempted to cut them off from the other end of the hall. They passed through several empty cells, kicking piles of dirty striped clothes and wrinkled blankets as they went.

"DON'T MOVE, TRESPASSERS!" A guard wedged his baton in between the cell bars, but Sam nimbly leaped over it. They vanished through the wall and came out on the other side, which happened to be the prison cafeteria.

"Look out!" Tucker cried as a net fell down from over head. They both rolled out of the way, and the net only caught empty air. But that was only one of many. Guards piled into the catwalks above the cafeteria, more than Sam was willing to stop and count. And then they were there right beside her, batons poised over their heads and shields arching over their front. Sam raised her wrist wray, but a hand yanked at her arm, pulling it away. She almost slugged the owner of the hand, until she realized it was Tucker, and he was trying to help her make a break for it.

Tucker dragged her through another wall and to the room beyond, and another one after that. That room was where Sam stopped, her feet gluing themselves to the ground so fast that she almost fell. Almost.

This room was different. It wasn't a cold, empty cell with bars and chains. No, this one had a bed with a real mattress, soft blankets and pillows, a closet. A closet full of stretchy blue jumpsuits. Her heart stopped. It seemed like for the first time in her life, luck was on Sam's side.

"Mrs. Fenton.." Sam muttered. She ran to the closet, pulling it open and losing her hands in the sets of jumpsuits hanging down like blue curtains. There were boots, glasses, suits, books about all sorts of things. Sam left the closet a mess and joined Tucker by the bed. He on his knees, searching under the bed. Sam stripped all the blankets off and found nothing but immaculately white sheets. Sheets that hadn't been used in a very long time, if ever.

"We have to find her!" Sam cried.

She tore through the room like a whirlwind, scavenging for anything that could tell where the owner of the blue suits could be. Tucker was still on his knees, but he wasn't looking under the bed anymore.

"Sam, look.."

He handed her a fist full of papers he had pulled out. Sam's eyes scanned them quickly. She recognized each drawing, each detailed designs for new weapons. She knew them because they were the same designs Vlad had been making and calling his own. Sam felt her stomach churn with disgust. She had trained with the very same weapons; _Danny_ had trained with them while Vlad watched. Sam fought the urge to puke, if only because the action would delay her search.

She pushed down the bile and checked under, over, and inside everything in the room. A bed, a closet, a nice little bookshelf, but no Madeleine Fenton.

"Sam." Tucker called her, but Sam wasn't listening. She had to find her. "Sam, she's not here."

"Mrs. Fenton?" Sam called out anyway. She tipped over the bookcase, hoping for a secret passage like in Vlad's mansion, but all she saw was a blank, cream colored wall. Even when she ran her hands over it to check for concealed cracks. "Maddie?" Nothing but the faint sound of guards shouting on the other side of the wall.

"Sam." Tucker had to grab her by the shoulders and turn her around, forcing her to face him. To listen. "Look. These were under the mattress." He stuffed a pile of papers in her hands. "Diary entries, I think. Maybe they can help."

Sam sorted through them. She recognized the writing, even after all this time. The guard's shouting was louder now.

"We'll look through them later." Tucker snatched the papers and stuffed them in his pocket. He took her hand before she could try to steal them back. "The guards will be in here in no time, and we've gotta be out by then." Sam knew he was right. They had what they needed...she hoped.

"Alright." She nodded, even though her lips hurt just saying it. "Let's go."

The yelling of the guards had grown thunderous by the time Sam uprooted her feet from their place and ran towards the wall. She had become so used to just phasing through it, that it came as a painful shock when she smacked into it instead. Hard.

She bounced off the wall and tumbled to the ground. Her head erupted in pain, and red fireworks sparked under his eyelids. She felt like she had just...well, rammed headfirst into a wall at top speed. Hello, concussion. For the second time that month...

"Damnit!" Tucker groaned beside her. "What the hell?"

"Ah." Sam blinked the fireworks out of her eyes, struggling to her feet. She stumbled and had to brace a hand against the wall to steady herself. The hand didn't go through. "These walls must be designed to keep humans in. For Maddie. A human."

"We probably should have thought of that." Tucker was on his knees, patting the ground for his glasses. Sam picked them up for him and placed them on his face. He blinked at her through the glasses, then nodded his thanks. It was a miracle the glasses didn't break on impact.

The guards only grew louder. They were just on the other side.

"They'll be in here any second." Sam whispered, fearing that they would hear her. They'd probably already been tipped off by the sound of them smacking into the very solid wall. "And then we're trapped."

"And I'll bet they can phase through these walls," Tucker scanned the room. "considering there aren't any doors."

"No, but there is that." Sam grinned and pointed to the ceiling. Humans needed air, and air came from vents. Much like the one staring down at them from the ceiling. It was small, definitely too small for Maddie to have ever fit through, but Sam was tiny and lithe. Tucker would be a little bit more difficult but...

"In there!"

"I think I hear something!"

"That way!"

…...they didn't have any other options. The guards were closing in, so Tucker would have to make do.

"I'll give you a lift, and you pull me up." Sam offered. She cupped her hands under Tucker's foot and lifted him, as steadily as she could, given the extreme pressure of the enemy at the door and Tucker's teenage boy weight, up to the vent. "Hurry up!" she cursed as the foot of a guard phased through the wall.

"I'm trying!" Tucker hissed back. "It's nailed in. I've almost got it."

The guard's chest had already made it in by the time the vent face clattered to the floor. Sam's hands shook as Tucker pulled himself through.

"Hey! You!" the guard had made it in, and walked right into the glowing blast from Sam's wrist ray. Tucker's shoulders broke pieces of the wall down, which rained on Sam's head as she took fire at the baton-wielding guards. She had the advantage for the moment, but one wrist ray against thirty angry ghosts could only last her so long.

"Tucker?" she shouted up to him, but didn't dare to her eyes away from the guards.

"I'm in-out!"

A few of them laid in groaning piles, but more jumped over them. Five stormed her. She only had time to take out two. Sam backed away as more surrounded her. She fired down as many as she could until a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She fought, but the arms were already pulling her. Pulling her...up?

"Sam, stop thrashing! It's me!"

"Tucker," A raspy sigh passed her lips. "Thank God."

"Trust me, I am."

Sam had to tuck her feet in as the guards leaped for her, their batons just brushing the bottom of her feet. She heard more pour into the room by the sound of her shouts. But it was too late. She was already wiggling through the gap in the ceiling. She coughed as the dust coated her lungs.

"Let's get out of here before the ceiling comes down." Tucker said. Even as the words left his mouth, the ceiling beneath them groaned with their weight. Sam and Tucker stood to full height, phasing through the second ceiling, which, thankfully, wasn't human proof.

Sam's vision swam with the overwhelming green and black of the Ghost Zone. She touched the earpiece of her Fenton phone and tried to speak over the wail of the prison alarms.

"Ember, we need-"

"I got you." Sam was pleasantly surprised to hear Ember's voice coming from right above her. Her arm linked around Ember's, and then Tucker's. "We were just about to ditch."

"I really hope you're joking." Tucker said as their feet left the purple fortress far behind them. Ember only chuckled-not a real answer either way.

"We found Maddie's room." Sam told them over the fading sound of guards shouting. She stared over her shoulder at the prison. No one was following her, as far as she could see, but...Sam shook her head. She was just being paranoid. Still, she hated the feeling that there were eyes watching her back.

"We found my father's room." Jazz said, and by the tone of her voice, Sam knew that she had had the same luck as her and Tucker. No Jack Fenton.

"He's hiding them somewhere else now." Ember growled. "He probably doesn't want Dipstick to run into them."

"Which means we're back to ground zero." Jazz finished. Sam wondered if the green glow on her face was a reflection of the green mist around them, or a mirror of the sickness she was feeling underneath. Jack and Maddie had always felt like a second pair of parents to Sam, but to Jazz, they were her _only_ parents. And to be so close, and yet, nothing. Sam jerked her eyes away.

"Not completely." Tucker drew all of their eyes to him. He shuffled around in his pocket, pulling out a handful of crumpled papers. Maddie's papers. "We got these."

"Maddie's notes!" Sam gasped. How could she have forgotten? "They might give us a hint to where she is." Tucker nodded, grinning despite the fatigue that dragged down his eyes. Those tired eyes fell to the page.

"She's writing about you, Jazz." Tucker said softly. If there hadn't been an eery silence coating the Ghost Zone, his words would have been barely audible. "And Danny."

"I-I'll read it later, but does it say anything about where they could be?" Jazz's face was still green when she spoke, maybe even a brighter green as her face had gone pale. But her voice showed the strength in her teal eyes. Shaky, but strong.

"I'm looking." Tucker shuffled the pages, and Sam caught sight of a few of them. She saw Danny and Jazz's names several times in the elegant black ink sketched onto the pages. The ink was smeared in a few places where Maddie's tears had fallen on the page.

"This one talks about a portal, and a bunch of science words." Tucker shook his head. "She thinks Vlad is a revolting bastard. I think we can all agree on that. She has a whole page dedicated to him and his mirror dimension, or something." Sam didn't know why that hit her like a blow to the stomach.

"Mirror dimension?" She asked, her throat suddenly dry.

"Yeah, I think so. The ink is a little splotchy, but," he held the page up to his eyes and shrugged. He raised his eyebrows to her, weary eyes sparkling glinting with wonder. "you have any idea what that is?"

And then she did. Her heart thumped wildly against its cage-out of excitement, fear or dread, she didn't know. "Yeah." Sam nodded. Her lips fought between a grin and a grimace. " And I know just where to find them."


	24. Chapter 24

Tucker's voice came through the speaker in Sam's Fenton phone.

"Nothing in the lab, or the library, or the.." his voice faded off, closing with a sigh. "Sam, are you sure about this? This is, well, _crazy._ "

"Crazy is all we got, Tucker." She mirrored his sigh, "Just keep looking. We never know when he's gonna get back."

That was enough to shut Tucker up for the time being, at least. Sam couldn't blame him. They were searching for a needle in a haystack-only, replace the needle with a small mirror and the haystack with Vlad Master's insanely expansive mansion. She knew it was crazy too, but crazy hope was better than no hope at all. Sam sighed as she ran her fingers over the wall, hastily searching for any kind of crack or indication of a hidden door. So far, nothing. Sam struggled to keep her temper, which grew increasingly fervent with every room that came up clueless and each second passing that Vlad could come back and-God forbid-catch them snooping through his house.

"Nothing in Vlad's room." Sam jumped at Jazz's voice on the radio.

"Damn it." Sam cursed. Her hands grazed over the last section of the last wall in Vlad's private study. No secret doors. "Jazz, are you sure there isn't another room that he might hide the mirror in?" She asked, straining to keep the desperation in her heart out of her voice.

"I told you the only ones I can think of. We can check the guest rooms, but-"

"How many guest rooms are there in this castle?" Ember asked the same question on Sam's mind.

"Dozens, probably." Jazz sighed. She didn't bother to hide her resignation.

"We won't have time to check every one. We've already been here for hours, and he's going to come back sometime."

"I know, Tucker," Sam ground her teeth, hating how right he was, and hating even more the dawning fear that she might be completely wrong about all of this, and then they would be back to square one. Worse than that, because back at square one, they still had Danny. And now...Sam's fingers curled into fists against the wall. The stupid, normal, no-secret-door wall. "I-I'm not done yet. Keep looking." The others murmured their "okays" while Sam's nails dug into the soft skin on her palm. She'd searched the cabinets, the bookshelves, the desk, every single wall. Nothing.

"Damn it!" She shouted again. Her fist pounded against the wall. Her eyes stung with angry, frustrated tears that were too stubborn to fall. She turned, and her eyes fell to Vlad's desk once again, where a photo of Jazz and Danny stared back at her, mocking her. "Bastard." She hissed as her combat boot crashed into his chair. It went flying and fell on its side. Danny's eyes mocked her from the photo. Beautiful blue, now turned a scarlet red. Finally, the tears fell. Sam's knees crumpled as her shaking breaths turning into sobs. She knew it wasn't the time, and definitely not the place for a breakdown, but the racking sobs didn't know that. She braced her hands against the carpet, heaving, clenching her teeth to hold back the sobs until they slowly receded back into shaky, unsteady breaths.

"Come on, Sam." She whispered to herself, but her own voice gave her no assurance. It was quaking as much as the rest of her, and didn't seem to be improving no matter how hard she bit her lip or ground her teeth. The clenched fists pulled away from the floor and hastily wiped at her eyes. She wouldn't be much good at searching if she couldn't see. She knew that in her mind, but it was much harder to convince her eyes to stop crying, her body to stop shaking. Sam took deep breaths, forcing herself to still. Her eyes cleared. She stared at the dark emptiness underneath Vlad's desk. The dark burgundy, almost black carpet only added to the darkness. She frowned. Her eyes moved quickly from the dark carpet underneath the desk to the carpet underneath her, and the carpet surrounding the desk. It could just be the shadow of the desk, but... Sam reached out, tentatively, and wrapped her index finger around one of the carpet strands. She pulled and the strand parted with the rest. She held it in the light. The color was indeed darker, just barely a shade closer to black, and the strand was longer than the rest of the carpet. Her breaths stilled and narrowed eyes focused back on the space underneath the desk.

"Hey, guys." Sam tapped the speak button and spoke quickly into the Fenton phone. "I think I found something."

"Seriously?" Tucker answered for all of them.

Sam didn't respond. Her hand fell from the speaker, mostly so that Tucker wouldn't be able to hear if she was mistaken and had a cursing breakdown again. She crawled under the desk and ran her fingers along the edge between the carpet and the backing of the desk. Her hands found a crack between the two, and with careful fingers she slowly peeled the carpet away from the floor. Her chest froze as her breaths faltered. She blinked several times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. After the third blink and check, eureka was on her lips. Sam pulled up the rest of the carpet to expose a vault in the floor, a trap door of sorts. Her hands wrapped around the handle as she fervently prayed it wasn't locked, and then gave it a pull. It opened to the left without even a squeak of protest and came to rest on the interior wall of the desk.

"Guys!" Sam said as she pressed the speak button on her earpiece. "I definitely found something. In Vlad's study."

"What is it?" Ember was the first to speak, but her voice was quickly muffled by the similar exclamations from Tucker and Jazz. Sam stared into the darkness of the opening beneath her, wondering the same thing herself.

"I..I don't know. A hidden trap door." Her eyes searched the darkness, but she couldn't make out anything. "Do you know anything about that, Jazz?"

"No. I've never seen anything like that."

"Stay there, Sam." Tucker said. "We're coming."

The other two promised their quick arrival and the lines went silent. She grimaced at the darkness, hating the fact that she was about to do what every dumb horror-movie character does before they died. She sucked in a deep breath and took her first step down into darkness.

The smell hit her first. The odor of a room that got as much fresh air as a coffin. And as dark as one, too. Sam's foot swung in empty air until it found the first step of the ladder leading down. She moved slowly and carefully, fearing that any misstep will send her falling, and she didn't have the slightest clue how far the drop was. Burying the rising panic, she forced herself to take steady breaths and place one foot after another in cautious succession until finally her foot hit solid ground. With only the light from above to guide her, Sam ran her fingers over the wall until they came across a light switch. Surprisingly, it clicked on the first try. It flickered, and the light was dim, but at least it was light.

The room wasn't as rundown as the smell led her to believe. She would have expected a room so tucked away and seemingly forgotten to be coated in dust and mildew, but the only thing that weighed down on the old photos and memories was time.

Sam tiptoed, feeling as though she was disturbing something very private as she peered into the pictures, yellowed with the decades. Sam sucked in a breath of muggy air, swearing that she'd seen one of those pictures before. Then she remembered. She had seen it before-at Danny's house, before it, well, collapsed in rubble. A young, college-day Maddie Fenton and Vlad Masters smiled back at her from the photo, but Jack Fenton was gone. Jagged lines outlined where he used to be. The sight made her bones turn to ice. She quickly moved on.

There was a football next to it, Packers of course, but it had been deflated long ago. Time had sucked the air from its lungs. She moved past it, hating the way its deflated shape was formed into a crooked smile. Sinister, almost.

There were more pictures after that, T-shirts and faded college posters hanging from the wall, but the pictures were what interested and disturbed her the most. Some of them she'd seen before in Danny's house, but others were new to her. A torn picture of Maddie and Vlad designing blue prints for their portal, building the portal, and then a finished copy. It wasn't turned on in the picture, just a shell of silver not much taller than a microwave. The pictures didn't show what happened after that. The photos skipped a few long years to a framed wedding invitation with Maddie's face beaming back. But Jack's face was cut out of this picture too, and every one that followed. Even Jack and Maddie's own wedding invitation. Sam shuddered. Her eyes were drawn to Maddie, the singular pleasant sight she'd crossed yet. Maddie's sweet smile comforted her somehow. She thought of that same smile on that same face, handing her a cup of steaming hot chocolate and brushing the snow from her nose. She would do anything to see that face again. Once again, her eyes started to sting.

"Focus, Sam." she reminded herself that she was on a mission. "Mirror." she whispered. Her eyes moved on to the rest of the room.

Danny had said that his parents lost contact with Vlad after college, and he hadn't entered into Danny's life until the accident that took his parents. And yet, pictures of a black haired baby with brilliant blue eyes made it into the collection. The dimples, and a nose gently wrinkled in laughter, adorned the face she knew so well.

 _"If Vlad didn't know Danny,"_ Sam thought, studying the picture, _"then why does he have Danny's baby picture?"_ There was no mistaking it. The face she knew was still the same, though now a bit older, less chub on the cheeks.

There were pictures of Jazz, too, but mostly Danny. Danny holding up an award at the third grade science fair. (She remembered that one-his hair was sticking up because he had launched the home made rocket off his head.) His sixth grade graduation, clutching his elementary school diploma against his tux and blue tie that was way too big. One with him, her, and Tucker at the park, all laughing, oblivious to the photo being taken. Sam chuckled. She remembered that one too.

The last one was of Danny, again in a tux, but he wasn't smiling in this picture. He was staring down at two headstones, a bouquet of daisies hanging limply at his side.

" _Oh, Danny._ " she thought miserably. That picture was so out of place, so devastating compared to the rest. It didn't belong with the smiling boy in the rest of the pictures. She looked away before the tears came back. It was a few pictures later, snapshots from Danny's first few times in his ghost form up to recent times, and more dilapidated memorabilia, before Sam came face to face with herself.

She had become rather good at figuring out Vlad's tricks, and the brand new Packer's banister looked far out of place along with the yellowed pictures and withered artifacts. She peeled it from the wall, and saw her own reflection framed in a gold rim. The mirror was just as she remembered it-old, but still beautiful in an antique way. The shrouding green glow was gone now, probably having left with Poindexter, but she could recognize it just the same. She reached for the mirror and ran her fingers over the cool glass. An involuntary shudder spread through her as she remembered all the hell that mirror put her through. Her fingers retracted from the glass and formed a tight fist at the sudden panic rushing through her. She needed to get inside that mirror. Maddie was there. She knew it without having to know.

"Ember?" she hissed into the phone. "Where are you guys?"

"Almost there, Sam. Like, ten seconds." she bit back. Not two seconds later, the sound of footsteps sounded on the ground above her head.

"Finally." Sam grumbled. She glanced at the mirror one last time, reached for it, but pulled her hand back before her fingers came in contact. It wasn't going anywhere for now. She rushed to the ladder and climbed two steps at a time, her previous caution left in the musty room beneath her.

"Took you guys long enough." she muttered as her head broke through the entrance of the trap door. She smacked her head on the desk and cursed before clambering out on her hands and knees. Standing up, Sam wrapped her arms around herself at the cold air. She didn't think she had been down there for that long, but the air had gone cold. Or maybe she had just gotten used to the warm, humid air of the secret chamber.

"Guys?"

Her eyes glazed over an empty room, slowly easing into twilight.

She shivered at the cold breeze and closed the window. Her index finger brought the earpiece to life.

"Ember, are you-"

Ember flew through the doorway with Jazz on one arm and Tucker on the other.

"Nevermind." Sam whispered, clicking off her earpiece.

"Thanks, Ember." Tucker said as the ghost dropped the two of them to the ground. "Faster to fly."

"Shit, it's freezing in here."

"The window was open." Sam said over her shoulder as she headed towards the desk. They didn't have time to waste.

"Sam, where's the trapdoor?" Jazz nearly ran to her.

"Under the desk. Come on." Jazz followed right on her heels. "Jazz, just to warn you, its...weird down there."

"Weird?"

Sam swallowed. "You'll see."

* * *

Jasmine's face nearly went green when she saw the photos with her dad's face cut out, and her and Danny's baby pictures.

"I told you guys he was a freaking nutcase." Ember said. Her feet floated half an inch above the ground, as if she didn't even want to touch the ground Vlad Masters walked on. Sam wished she didn't have to either.

"Ember, do you think you can phase us through the mirror?" Sam asked in a whisper. She didn't know why she was whispering, but she couldn't stop herself from doing it. A room with so many secrets seemed to demand it, and they all obeyed.

"Probably, but," Ember stared at the mirror, _in_ to it, like she could already see the dimension inside. "If something happens to the mirror, if it breaks, there would be no way out." Her hair danced in blue flames. Sam feared she would catch the pictures on fire, but it only bathed them in a soft turquoise light. "Are you willing to risk that?"

The silence was as thick as the muggy air. All eyes turned to Jazz. It was her parents, and her choice.

"If my parents are really there, really... _alive_ ," her voice cracked, eyes shinning under the flicker of the lightbulb and the glow of Ember's fiery hair. "then I would risk anything just to tell them I love them one more time. And I know Danny would too."

Danny wasn't there to see them now, but...

The thought of Danny took the breath of Sam's lungs. He was always on her mind, but hearing his name out loud evoked that strangling desperation that she had been trying so hard to bury for his own sake. She forced herself to breathe again.

 _"I promise you, Danny."_ Sam swore to herself as much as to him. _"You'll see them again. I promise."_

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" Ember said, but there was no trace of her usual sarcasm. A slight voice crack on _then_ was the only indication of slight and well hidden fear. Sam felt the same fear creeping inside her. More than anything, she feared that she was wrong. She feared that they would find nothing but empty space.

"Maybe we should take it and go." Tucker said. "In case Vlad comes back."

"If Sam's right, Vlad will know if its gone." Jazz said. "We don't want him on our tail yet. And if it breaks when we try to move it..." she didn't finish the thought. Didn't need to.

"Let's just make this quick." Ember said, her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared the mirror. Her hand wrapped around Sam's elbow, and Sam felt the now familiar prickle of intangibility flow through her when a voice shattered the silence, and everyone froze.

"Come out, you ghost bastard." A high voice spoke, familiar, but Sam couldn't place it yet. "I know you're here."

 _Ghost_. Ember's wide eyes flicked to Sam and held her in their gaze. That voice...it couldn't be talking about Ember, could it? She _was_ the only ghost, unless...

"Phantom!" The voice shouted this time, demanding and fierce, just like Sam remembered it. Her eyes flew to Tucker's as he mouthed the name that was blasting fireworks in her head in that moment. _Valerie_. The Red Huntress, and... _Phantom_?!

The unmistakable sound of an ectoblast colliding with flesh came from just past the door of their little hideout, and then a cry from Valerie. Out of triumph or pain, Sam didn't know.

"Come on!" Ember hissed in Sam's ear. Her fingers, cold and strong, gripped Sam with an unexpected power for a dead girl. "If we're gonna go, we have to do it _now_." Sam only nodded, not trusted herself to speak. Ember dragged her towards the mirror, doing the same with Jazz on her other hand.

"Tucker!" Sam said, stretching her open hand out towards him as Ember stuck one foot through the mirror. Now the intangibility washed fully over her, over every inch of her skin. "Come on!" A shout came from the other side of the door, in a voice much deeper than Valerie's. It sent tendrils of ice racing up her spine. She knew that voice, too. Despite all her efforts to stay calm, Sam's heart shot to the roof. It was Danny. Sam struggled against Ember's arm, wanting to race to him even though she knew the Danny upstairs wasn't the Danny she knew.

"You guys go. I have to stay here." Tucker said, stepping closer, but not daring to reach his hand towards hers.

"Tucker, no-" Sam bit down her panic enough to protest.

"Somebody has to watch the mirror. Make sure nothing happens to it." Outside, Valerie shouted something that was too jumbled by fury to hear. "Find Danny's parents, and...if something happens," he gulped, and took a shaky breath. "take care of Danny, okay?"

She would have argued, or grabbed him by his stupid hat and pulled him in with her, but Ember had already disappeared beyond the mirror, along with the lower half of Sam's body.

"Tucker, I swear to-"

Sam gasped as Tucker determined face vanished along with all the creepy pictures of Vlad's secret hideaway, replaced by a swirl of gray. She felt dead and alive at the same time, there and not there, like she was just wind slowly dancing over the choppy waves of a gray sea. And then, like one of those choppy waves had sudden smacked her in the face and washed over her, she was whole again. Her now solid body collided with the very solid floor. Sam sucked in a deep breath and pushed herself up into a plank position. Her hands shook like sea legs, and she had to crawl to her knees to keep from toppling over.

"Oh my God," was the first thing she heard when she blinked open her bleary eyes. Jazz. "this is... _extraordinary_." When her body finally stopped trembling, and her eyes cleared enough to see, Sam couldn't help but to nod in agreement, speechless. According to Danny, she'd been here before, when he was, _well,_ possessing her body, but she didn't remember it at all. And he wasn't very good at describing things. He'd told her everything was gray. At least he was right about that. A slate gray, much older version of her school. Except, most of the lockers were crushed, dented, or completely destroyed, and cracks traced up the walls and floor like charcoal vines. Apparently, Danny and Poindexter had done more damage than he had let on.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fantastic." Ember's sarcasm brought Sam's attention to her. She was standing, slightly winded from guiding three bodies through the timeloop, but not too winded to keep her from rolling her eyes at them. "Now can we go? We kind of have a lot of ground to cover, and psycho Dipstick won't wait for long." That got Sam to her feet. She trembled, but it wasn't because of the sea legs. Tucker was out there, alone with a pissed off Valerie and a... _psycho_ Danny. They had to move fast, before Tucker got himself hurt.

"Let's split up." Jazz said. "We have to hurry."

"But Tucker-"

"He can take care of himself." Ember said over her shoulder. Her feet were already hovering over the gray tiles of the floor, ready to go.

"We can't just _leave_ him out there, _alone!_ " Sam hissed. Ember wasn't listening. "Jazz?" She turned pleading eyes to the older Fenton.

"Sam," Jazz spoke, and Sam already knew she'd lost at that motherly, apologetic tone that always meant no. "Have some faith in Tucker. He stayed behind of his own will. Now please," her tone turned urgent as she took Sam by the shoulders, "please help me do what we came here to do. Tucker will be okay."

Sam brushed Jazz's hands off her shoulders. Her stomach was clenched with fury and fear at the thought of leaving Tucker, but she knew her battle was already lost. She couldn't blame Jazz for not wanting to turn back when she was so close to her parents, but Sam still couldn't bring herself to look her in the eyes.

"I'll go this way." She mumbled to the cracked tile at her feet.

A quiet "Thank you" came from Jazz's direction, and then the sound of hurried feet going the opposite way. Sam cast her eyes once more towards the lockers, knowing that somewhere beyond there her friend was risking his life, and she couldn't even stand beside him.

* * *

They yelled with hoarse voices and raw throats, and sometimes, they thought they heard shouts back. Maybe it was just the echos of their own voices, but those faint cries were enough to keep them going. Sam knew the layout of the school better than the rest of them, even if it had changed since the fifty something years had gone by. She knew most of the hiding places, the best spots if you want to hide. But, as it turns out, none of these places were where Sam heard the soft, desperate croak of a cry. It wasn't even strong enough to form a word, but it was the embodiment of hope, if there ever was such a thing.

"Mrs. Fenton?" Sam cried, voice cracking with tears of hope and desperation. Her heart stopped beating while she waited and listened for that cry again. The second one was even weaker than the first, but it was definitely there. It was hope. But that hope quickly retreated to the back of Sam's conscious when the temperature dropped.

She turned slowly, already knowing what would be facing her, but not wanting to see it anyway. A toned body under a suit sewn from the black waters of the Styx river, white hair like the lacy clouds in the afternoon, and eyes as scarlet as rubies. He was still, arms folded over his chest, his feet hovering an inch or so above the ground. Sam held her breath, applying the "if I don't move he won't see me" rule she learned from watching Jurassic Park. And she almost thought it was working, until his soft lips, the same lips that she had kissed not so long ago, pulled taunt in a smirk.

"Gotcha." he said with that awful smirk. And then he laughed, but it wasn't _his_ laugh. It was cold, humorless-it was _Vlad's_ laugh.

"Danny," her voice came out as a plea. "Stop this. Your parents are-"

"Dead." he said. And as if the vacant, cold voice wasn't enough, his smirk never even faltered as he said it. Sam felt as if she'd been slapped. Hard. She took a few slow steps back without even realizing it. Her breaths came out in frozen vapors. She suddenly realized she was cold, and at that one revelation, everything made sense.

He had been there, in the study. The footsteps above her, the chill that she had blamed on the open window, had been him. The eyes that she'd felt watching her since Walker's Prison had been his eyes. A rush of icy breath burst past her lungs as she cursed her own stupidity.

"You followed me." she whispered. it was him, and he was here, and that meant...oh no. "What did you do to Tucker?" panic turned her stomach sour.

"Who?" Danny, or what used to be Danny, tilted his head to the side and blinked confused, red eyes. He laughed again, more to himself this time, and Sam took another few steps back. She was against the wall now, her back pressed against a sliver of a crack in the cement. "Why, was he a friend of yours?"

Was. _Was_ he a friend of yours? Oh, God...

"He's _your_ friend, Danny. Your best friend!" she screamed. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. _Was_. The tears burned as they pooled into her lavender eyes.

"I don't have friends."

Danny's crimson eyes glittered back at her. Cold, dead rubies. Sam's breaths came out in choked gasps. She bit her tongue as Danny dropped his feet down to the floor and walked over to her. Such a human movement, for something so far from it.

" _Tucker_ ," Sam thought, and bit down on her tongue until the tang of metallic warmth filled her mouth.

"Danny." his name came out as an urgent cry. "This isn't you."

He was silent as he walked closer. He walked, not hovered or flew. It was a tormenting slow. She had always been faster than him on foot. He knew that just as well as she did. Did he want her to run? The rapid beat of her heart told Sam that she had to do something other than stand there shaking. She stared at his eyes that glowed like burning coals, like fire. And yet she had never seen anything so cold.

 _"Run."_ Sam's better sense whispered. _"Move!"_

"Danny." She pleaded aloud.

" _This isn't your Danny_." His hands began to glow a soft green. " _Run_!"

Her feet twitched, her chest swelled with air in her lungs. She had to. Her better sense knew that, but part of her couldn't. Somewhere in that red-hot, ice-cold eyed Danny was the Danny that built spaceship prototypes in his spare time and liked cheesy monster movies. But where was _that_ Danny?

The endless gray of the mirror dimension only made the green glow of his hands seem brighter, his eyes a burning scarlet.

Her better sense took control and her feet obeyed. She ran, but she didn't get far. Sam had barely made it two hurried steps when he appeared in front of her in a flash of green light. He had never seemed so tall as he did when he stood between her and her escape. The air in her lungs rushed out in a hiccupy gasp as she collided with his chest. She stumbled back until her heels ran into the lockers.

"Bad idea." he whispered to her as if they were sharing a secret. Her heart sank. He was right about that. Her eyes shifted past him, over his shoulder, searching for...for what? His arm shifted to brace his hand against the locker. His body moved to block her vision. Sam held her breath, listening for...

Her eyes darted to his eyes. He was only looking at her.

" _He didn't hear it_." She didn't know whether that was good or bad. Ideas rushed through her mind. She gulped. Call for help? He would break her wrist before she could raise her finger to the Fenton phone. Why hadn't he already?

The thought cleared her mind of all others. She froze exactly where she was, vulnerable under his arms, stuck between those icy red eyes and the wall of lockers. She counted the seconds as they passed. Nothing happened. A glimmer of hope rose again at the realization that he was..stalling.

"You're not going to hurt me." She gasped. His eyes narrowed. She could see his jaw tighten as he grit his teeth angrily, but he was silent. "You're holding back." Sam's foot receded from the wall as she inched closer to him. "You're still in there." she whispered.

His fist slammed into the locker right next to her face. It crumpled in on itself with a crash and a hiss. Green sparks blinded her eyes. The side of her face burned as seared shards of metal sliced across her cheek. She bit back a cry of pain.

"Don't. Move." he growled through gritted teeth.

"I-I'm not going anywhere." her eyes stung. Her breath felt cold as it shuddered out of her lungs. "You don't want to hurt me, Danny. I know you don't."

"You don't know anything."

Sam forced herself to breath deeply, even if the air was cold enough to make her lungs shrivel. She heard it again, a cry so faint it could have been her imagination.

"Let me go, Danny."

Doubt flickered across his eyes. He was holding back, hesitating-it wasn't much, but it would have to do.

"I'm sorry." Sam said gently. She saw confusion cover the doubt in his eyes. "For this." she whispered as her wrist wray fired. Sam forced her shoulder against his chest as the ectoblast made contact. The combination of the two was enough force to push him back with a growl of pain.

"Jazz! Ember!" Sam shouted into her earpiece as she took off in a run. A shout sounded behind her, followed by the hiss of an ectoblast burning a hole through the wall where her head was a second ago.

"Sam?"

"You okay? What's going on?" Her earpiece chimed

"Danny's here and he's-" her thought was interrupted as Danny appeared in front of her once again, this time with half of his pant leg seared off around the calf where the shot had hit. She ducked and his fist crashed against the wall. And then she was running again, following the faint cries. Jazz and Ember's voices rang in her ears, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. All she cared about was getting to that door and that voice. Adrenaline propelled her closer. She could feel Danny behind her still in pursuit. But part of him was still holding back.

Sam ignored the screams in her ears and the impending doom behind her. Her eyes focused solely on that door.

" _Probably locked_." She assumed. Sam raised her blaster and shot at the lock. It glowed with bright sparks. The sparks receded to show a charred lock, but still in tact. She cursed. Sam braced her back against the door and raised her wrist wray at the silver and black streak racing towards her. Her hands shook. She held her breath, trying to steady the blaster that she didn't plan to shoot.

"Come on," She murmured as her tongue moved painfully against the roof of her mouth. Danny's figure was only a blur before her teary eyes, but she could make out his hand reaching towards her, glowing a bright green. Sam waited for the blinding green flash before she dropped to her knees. Her eyes were squeezed shut against the light, but she heard the sound of the door splintering, the lock turned to dust.

Danny's gloved hand grazed her arm as Sam threw all her weight against the door. It gave away and Sam stumbled into the open room, fell, and rolled to get out of Danny's aim, but when she raised her eyes to him she saw that he was no longer aiming for her. He was frozen again, but this time his focus was not on her. She ducked behind a medicine cabinet and held the wrist wray tight against her chest. With a daring glance over the edge of her shelter, Sam's heart slowed just slightly when she saw that Danny had made no move to come after her. He was still stopped in the doorway of what Sam quickly recognized as the nurse's office. It hadn't changed too much since Poindexter's day. It was still lined with the same white cabinets, a few chairs, an examination table. But that table was a bed in this dimension, and those white cabinets weren't filled with medicine, but weapons and glowing lab samples. Sam covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Silently, she thanked every god from every religion she knew of and her gaze flicked back to Danny's still figure. His red eyes flickered and the cruel smirk on his lips fell quivering. Red eyes flickered again, and then blinked away into green. Beautiful, shimmering emeralds. The sight of them brought Sam's silent heart back to life. Her lips curled into a trembling smile as his uttered one word that shattered the silence like glass.

"Mom?"


	25. Chapter 25

"Mom?" He had asked quietly, as if he couldn't believe it was really her. But there was no mistaking whose eyes were hidden behind those blue goggles. Brilliant copper hair, still cut short around her face, ran with soft streaks strings of gray like spidersilk in the moonlight. She couldn't be much later than her forties, but Sam was sure she would have a few grays too, if she had been in Mrs. Fenton's shoes.

"Mom!" Danny said again, no longer a question. His voice was choked, and glistening tears ran down his cheeks as he stepped towards the woman on the bed. A slow hand with long, delicate fingers removed the goggles from Mrs. Fenton's eyes. Violet eyes, much like Sam's, blinked back at them in disbelief. They found Danny, and that was enough to set the boy running. Not flying, but running. Not a ghost, but a human boy that had had his heart ripped out and stitched back in. But his feet came to a sudden halt when she raised a gun, a brand new ectogun, by the look of it, and pointed it at his chest.

"Not any closer, ghost." She demanded. Her voice was frail, but still much the same as the old Mrs. Fenton that used to make cookies and fudge and blabber about ghosts for hours on end.

Danny took a slow step back, and then another. He raised his hands in peace as a fresh tears spilled over the bottom of his eyelid and cascaded down his face. "M-mom, it's me." He said with trembling lips. "It's Danny."

Maddie's face contorted, in pain or rage, Sam didn't know. The gun shook so much that Sam thought she would drop it, _hoped_ she would drop it, but Maddie's pale fingers wrapped around it tight. Her eyes shone too.

"How do you know that name?" She screamed, as much as her hoarse voice would let her. It cracked like the cackling of wood burning in a campfire. "You are not my son! Get away from me!"

Her finger rested taunt around the trigger when two pale rings of light spread across Danny's chest. Her mouth slowly fell farther open with each second, each inch that changed Danny's black suit into a faded white T, those glowing emerald eyes into glistening baby blues. The gun clattered to the ground, the sound echoing in the silence as Maddie stood dumbfounded, and Danny stood, anxiously awaiting what those chapped red lips were about to say.

"D-Dan...Danny?"

He nodded, and Maddie's quivering hands flew to her mouth. Copper strands of hair bounced as she shook her head back and forth as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing was true, but that didn't stop her from launching herself from the bed and running, tripping into his arms. He was at least a head taller than her now, but she didn't seem to care as she buried her face in his shoulder. Sam held her breath, her own eyes fogging like raindrops on a car window. Maddie's body racked with sobs as she clung to her son, two years older than the last time she had laid eyes on him. Her fingers clasped his T-shirt in fists, only letting go when she pulled away and reached those hands up to hold his face.

"My boy." she choked. Tears left a shiny trail down her cheeks as still more budded in her eyes like dew drops of lavender flowers. "Did he do this to you?" Maddie asked, cupping the sides of his face. He rested his forehead on hers as he shook his head.

"It was the portal." he whispered. Maddie closed her eyes and more tears fell from her lashes.

"Danny," she cried, shaking her head again. Her hair stuck to the paths of tears on her face. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. I-I pulled a _gun_ on you. I'd forgotten what your voice sounded like. I forgot my own son's _voice_." She wailed.

"It's okay, mom." Danny brushed her tears away and plucked the copper strands from her cheeks, but she only cried harder. Heavy, racking sobs that buried her face back into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Danny. If I had known, _oh_ -" Danny's shirt grew wet with her tears. He just wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer.

"Sam." she jumped as the static in her Fenton phone spoke words.

"J-Jazz?" Sam muttered, roughly brushing the tears off her cheeks with the palm of her hand. She hadn't even noticed they were there until now. Her hands came back smeared with black from mascara and the remnants of eyeliner she had forgotten to take off, what, two days ago? "Jazz, we found her."

"Mom?" Jazz said calmly. "MOM?" she said again, much less calmly. Sam tried to jerk her head away from the screech that left her ears ringing, but the Fenton phone was wrapped around her ear.

"S-Sam?" Mrs. Fenton gasped. She had to stand on her toes to peer over Danny's shoulder. "Sam, is that-" her voice broke and faded, but Sam read the remaining words on her lips. _Really you?_

"Mrs. Fenton," Sam wasn't surprised when her own voice broke too. Her lips trembled too much for her to say anything except for a quiet, meek, "hi."

"Is that my mom?" Jazz cried over the earpiece, sounding like the squawking of a baby seagull.

"In the nurses office." Sam answered, and Jazz's end of the line immediately clicked off.

"Mrs. Fenton," Sam said, now only a pace or two away from her. She searched in her bag until her fingers grazed upon softy, stretchy hazmat. She didn't know why she had put in in the bag in the first place, but now she was glad that she had. It made up for the words that her lips couldn't seem to utter. Hell, the words her mind couldn't even seem to conjure up. Mrs. Fenton took it with one hand, the other one still wrapped around her son in a hug. She stared at it a long time, running her fingers over the faded turquoise material. The woman who made ghost weapons for a living, who now had sparkling strands of silver in her copper hair, blinked back tears and a silent thank you. She pulled Sam into a one armed hug just as a young woman with long hair much like Maddie's tripped through the doorway.

"MOM!"

"Jasmine!"

" _Danny_?"

"Jazz!"

They saved the explanations until after they were all wrapped in each other arms, crying and holding each other's faces just to make sure the person before them was real and not some tantalizing illusion.

"Jazz, honey," Maddie bit her lip, tucking a strand of Jazz's sunset orange hair behind her ear. "When did you get so beautiful?"

Jazz laughed, and smiled, and cried all at once. The back of her hand quickly wiped at her cheek, but she missed half the drops that studded her skin like rhinestones. Jazz put her arms around her mother's neck and pulled her close. She was taller too, now, by almost half a head. Enough that she had to bend her neck to bury her face in her mother's soft hair. Danny dropped his arms away and let Jazz and Maddie have a minute to themselves, just like he had had with her. He turned to Sam instead, and his tear stained face only met with hers for a second before his arms were wrapped around her waist, lifting her until her toes just barely brushed against the ground. Sam gasped at the _suddenness_ of it all, not realizing what was happening until Danny's lips pressed against hers, his soft lips fitting perfectly against her own. She cupped her hands on his jawline. The only thing she could think was how much she missed those lips, and if his mother hadn't have been _right there_ , she would have never let him go. Too soon, his lips pulled away and then her feet were back on the ground again. Her knees grew wobbly when her full weight pressed down on them, but Danny's arms were around her, catching her and saving her without even knowing it.

"Thank you." He whispered into her hair. "I don't know how you did it-hell, I don't even know how I _got_ here-but thank you." Sam didn't know what to say to that, so she just kissed him again.

"When did that happen?" Sam heard the faint croak of Maddie's strained voice.

"I have no idea," Jazz whispered back, and a soft laughter mingled with her words. The kind of gentle, fragile laugh that only shows its face after tears. Like the sweet smell of the earth after a heavy rain. "But it's about time." Danny must have heard it too, because when they finally parted, his cheeks had taken on the soft pink glow of embarrassment.

"Do I get a kiss too?"

Four heads snapped to the doorway, bathed in a soft blue glow from Ember's flame of a ponytail. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, with a mischievously quirked eyebrow that reminded Sam of the evil fairy that didn't get inviting to Sleeping Beauty's baby shower. "Or is that exclusively for the goth chick?"

Sam dropped his hand when the familiar white rings sparked to life around his torso. The power of it still coursed through her fingers, to her arm, sending tingling little shock waves all throughout her. She gasped at the feeling, while Maddie just gasped at the sight.

"Cool it, Dipstick." Ember said, unfolding her arms and floating towards them with feet just barely hovering over the ground. "I'm not gonna kiss you, dork. But you should be kissing me. Or groveling at my feet."

"Why would I do that?" Brilliant green eyes narrowed at the blue haired ghost.

"Who do you think told your girlfriend that your mother was still alive and kicking?" Danny blinked, actually taking a step back. Ember took a few steps forward. "Or, hmm, who do you think phased your little team through the mirror? Oh, wow," Ember replaced her pondering look for a smug grin, her face hovering just an inch away from Danny's. "that would be _me_ , wouldn't it?"

Danny blinked again, then looked to Sam. She nodded, and Ember's face broke into an even smugger smile when Danny's face glowed a soft, springtime green.

"Y- _you_? But-" Danny's white hair flew in a fury as he shook his head. His feet plopped down on the ground with a soft _thud._ "But why?" Ember placed a finger on her chin, as if the question really set her thinking.

"Well," she said, shrugging. "I still think you're an ass, and I'm still going to get you back for all those times you shoved me into that stupid thermos, but I hate Vlad even more than I hate you." she glanced at Maddie, and the faintest smile graced her lips. "And your mom's pretty cool."

"Um, thanks, I guess." Danny rubbed the back of his neck, an even brighter shade of green now. Almost blindingly bright.

"But really," the smile dropped from Ember's face. Her eyes pinned him down with a silent fire. "Vlad is planning a war. No, not even planning. It's _happening_ -probably as we speak." Sam's fingers unconsciously tightened around Danny's wrist. "And I hate to say it, Dipstick, but you're our best chance of fixing this mess." Sam's fingernails dug into his skin, but if he felt it, he gave no sign that he did. She had seen an army of more than she could count. And the thought of Danny against that whole army, against _Vlad..._ But his face showed none of the fear that she had; his face was blank, except for the sparks of fury that danced behind the glassy blue surface of his eyes. Sam squeezed his hand, consciously this time, and he tore his eyes away from Ember's fierce ones long enough to look at Sam. She nodded to him, hoping her eyes didn't betray the terror she felt at the thought of him taking on an army. But he wouldn't be alone. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze back before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

"What's the plan?" he asked, such a simple question to cover so much. Ember started, and then her shoulders slumped as nothing left her mouth. Her wildfire hair turned back into a ponytail.

"We're gonna need some of these." Maddie said, pulling open the drawer of a towering white cabinet to expose shelves on shelves of new, glittering weapons. "I've been designing these, and Vlad has been...I don't know what he does with them. Probably sells them."

Sam's blood curled at the sight of them. They were the same weapons that Vlad had been pattoning and claiming his own. The same weapons that she had used in training and in battle. _Danny_ had used them, and had never known that the same gun he held was once held in the hands of his mother. Furious tears blurred her eyes, but not too much to see Danny's face flush crimson with the same rage boiling in her blood.

Maddie took one and put it in Danny's hands. A shiny, new ectoblaster that supposedly shot double the distance with even better accuracy. She told him this with a proud grin plastered on her face, a grin that made the crows feet crinkle at her eyes, and Danny only nodded. He already knew, because he had the very same gun at home, his faded with use and riddled with battle scratches. Hadn't he used that very gun against Ember, so long ago?

"Mom," Jazz interrupted, twisting the gun that she held around. She grazed it with her fingers, tapping on her own reflection in the sparkling silver surface. "If you had all these weapons with you, why didn't you just shoot Vlad and get out?"

The grin faded from Maddie's face slowly, reducing the crow's feet into mere lines etched into the corner of her eyes like chicken scratches. Her hands dropped to her legs, the gun still in her hands. She handed it off to Sam and didn't look at it again.

"That's a story for a different time, Sweetie." Maddie said quietly. It wasn't the deepening wrinkles, or the soft strands of silver in her melted penny hair, but that weak, broken voice that made her seem far older than her forty-something years. It made Sam want to curl into a ball and cry on the floor.

"Did Dad ever..." One look from Maddie's violet eyes silenced Jazz instantly. But the thought was already out there. It was silent enough for even Maddie's weak, trembling voice to be heard.

"He loved you two," Maddie gasped, the words a painful reminder of the love she had lost. "more than anything." Danny's hands tightened around the gun . Jazz gasped like she had taken a hit. Maddie pulled Jazz against her, her tears wetting Jazz's shimmering orange hair as she kissed the top of her head. "If he could see you now." Maddie shook her head and stretched a hand out towards Danny. He didn't move, stuck in a trance, until Maddie locked her fingers around his and pulled him close. She wiped the tears from his face with the back of her long fingers, bruised, calloused, and cut from years of work, but still bearing the tender touch of a mother. "Jack..." a hiccuping sob broke into into Ja-ack. "Your father would have been s-so, _so_ proud." Sam couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of Maddie's hands cupping her son's tear-stained cheeks as the woman's own tears rolled down hers. Beautiful, horrible, captivating. The gun felt like twenty pounds in Sam's hands.

"We're getting you out of here, Mom." It was Jazz who spoke first. Always the wise motivator, even when her nose had been scrubbed red, eyes swollen, and cheeks shiny. Maddie slowly dropped her hands from Danny's face as she nodded, sniffling quietly when Jazz hooked her arm around her mother's waist.

"We'll need these." Maddie gestured with a trembling hand towards the weapon cabinet. "As many as we can take. I don't know what Vlad is planning, but I know..." she squeezed her eyes shut, lips puckered in pain. "I know it's not going to be good for our world."

"Once we get out, we'll take the whole damn mirror." Ember spoke up, and Sam was shocked to see that the ghost's cheeks had tear-stains of their own. And in that second, when Ember's eyes blinked quickly and a stray tear fluttered from her lashes, Sam wondered what the girl behind the ghost was like. If she had ever gotten a chance to say goodbye to her own parents. Ember turned her face away.

"I'll carry what I can," Sam said, already loading her arms with guns, nets, and things she couldn't explain if she wanted to. Some of it she'd seen before, but others were too new for even Vlad to get his grubby, thieving hands on. "I'm sorry to rush you, Mrs. Fenton, but who knows what's going on on the other side of this mirror." She gulped, thinking of the boy she left behind.

"I'm ready." Maddie nodded her tear-stained stained face with that same unflappable determination that Sam had admired when she was a little girl. Some things, she knew, never changed.

* * *

Ember carried Sam through the mirror. Sam held her breath the whole time, and when the swirling shades of grays sucked that breath away, she just squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that she would still find that boy waiting when she reached the other side.

If it hadn't been for Ember, Sam would have face planted a second time that day, this time on her side of the mirror. But Ember's sturdy arms kept her straight, even when she coughed and gasped for breath.

"Sam!"

She almost collapsed at the sound of that voice. Sam fell into another set of arms, broader, with remarkably darker skin. "Breathe, Sam!"

"Tucker," she coughed, her voice hoarse from coughing, and maybe a bit of crying too. The smears of eyeliner and blotches on mascara painting her cheeks were enough to say that. "a-are you..o-okay?" she gasped between splutters. Her hands reached up to cup his face when her tears cleared enough for her to see. She turned his face side to side, praying and pleading that she didn't find any blood.

"Is Danny-" he started, but Sam didn't let him finish.

"I asked first. _Are you okay_?" He took her hands in his, pulling them away from his face, just as the mirror burst into life, bathing the hidden room in a soft green glow.

"Danny!"

Tucker gasped. Little green spots danced in Sam's vision, but not too many to blot out the sight before her.

"Tucker," Danny released his mother's hand and grabbed Tucker's face, much like Sam had only moments earlier. "Are you okay? Did I...I didn't...oh, man. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. You blew right past me." He said, pulling his face away. "Are you..?"

"Guilt-sick and really sorry."

"As you should be!" A voice shouted from behind Sam.

"Valerie?"

"That's right, Phantom. Or Fenton, Danny-whatever you are!" Danny tensed at the ectogun pointed at his chest.

"Come on, Val-"

"Don't call me that." The red huntress growled, though the rumble of her voice could just as easily be a tremble. "Just don't-don't come any closer, okay?"

"Okay." Danny said, raising his hands in an open palmed gesture of peace. He took a step back.

"Shit, Valerie, drop the gun." Sam reached for the weapon, but Valerie jerked away. The gun never left it's focus, pointed straight at the ghost with the white hair.

"Get away from me, Manson." Valerie demanded. Sam obliged, fighting with the raging temper that wanted to smack that gun out of Valerie's stupid, shaking hands. But if she did that, the gun could go off and hit someone. Danny, presumably, and she couldn't risk losing the boy she had just barely gotten back. So she took a few steps back, hands raised like Danny. The scowl was still plastered to her face when Valerie nodded tensely, but didn't lower the gun.

"Valerie, we talked about this. You said you were okay!" Tucker said in a low voice. He inched towards her, and to Sam's surprise, Valerie didn't shoot.

"I lied." Her hands shook as she gulped. "I think."

"How about you put the gun down, and we can all just talk about this." Sam wanted to argue that they didn't have time to sit down and have a nice little talk over tea and cookies, but she kept silent. Sam knew she was the last voice Valerie wanted to hear at the moment (besides Danny's), and she didn't want to risk setting her off.

"I trusted you, asshole." Valerie spoke, to Danny this time. "You lied to me and your stupid dog ruined my life."

"It was an accident, Valerie." Danny said slowly. Sam was amazed at the way he looked into the Huntress' eyes, when all she could see was that gun glowing in her hands. "I'm sorry."

"I really liked you." Valerie blinked and her grass colored eyes grew wet with tears, like dew drops on leaves. "I liked you a _lot_ , and you just..." she finished with a shake of her head. Enough to make a single tear trail down her cheeks, but not enough to lose focus on her target. A great skill for a hunter, but Sam couldn't bring herself to appreciate it when the target was her boyfriend.

"Miss?"

A hand appeared on Danny's shoulder, gently pushing him back as Mrs. Fenton stepped forward to take her place beside her son. Valerie's eyes widened, her gun lowering slightly, but still raised enough to give a deadly shot.

"You. You're not...you _can't_ be." Valerie blubbered. "You're dead!" Her voice was shaky and hoarse.

"You're Damian's daughter, aren't you?" Maddie asked in that sweet, lulling voice that only a mother knew how to do. "How is your father?"

"This is some cruel joke."

"Valerie, dear. I'm sorry for whatever my son did. He does stupid things sometimes. But I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you. He has a good heart-"

"He's a liar."

"Was he lying or was he just trying to protect himself?"She spoke the question like a statement, wrapped and coated in that loving, motherly voice that made Sam want to apologize for every wrong deed she has ever done in life and ask for a hug. Whatever magic Mrs. Fenton knew worked on Valerie too. The tip of her gun lowered, slowly, until it fell from her hands and clattered against the floor. The sound echoed against the walls of such a small room. Even the pictures on the wall seemed to shift their cold eyes to the scene.

"Is it all true?" Valerie croaked. Her eyes glistened in the dim light. "What Tucker said? About Mr. Masters?"

"All of it." Tucker answered. "The proof is right there. Look at her," he said, pointing to Maddie and to her son that she had slowly, over her speech, inched in front of. Maddie had completely stepped in front of her boy, guarding him from the gun pointed at his chest. She did it so slyly that Danny hadn't even noticed.

"Danny may have lied to you, but Vlad lied to you both, and he's planning a lot worse than that." Tucker said, and Sam found herself agreeing with him. She didn't want to know he was right, but she did, and no amount of denial could cover the proof standing right in front of her, in the form of an aged, but still beautiful Maddie Fenton. "So maybe you should figure out who your real enemies are."

Sam worried that Valerie would pick up her gun and shoot him for saying something like that, but she didn't. She took a careful, hesitant step forward.

"Maddie," she reached her trembling hand out to the woman. Her gloves were torn and charred. "i-its good to see you again. And...I'm sorry I almost shot your son." Maddie nodded, her lips a wavering smile. She stepped aside when Valerie's gaze floated over her shoulder at the boy beyond. For the first time, Danny seemed to notice that his mother had stepped in front of him protectively. He blushed, and squeezed his mother's hand as she stepped past.

"Danny." Valerie reached a hand towards him. Her fingers curled back when his gloved hand went to accept them.

"I can change back, if you want." He said quietly. His cheeks glowed green. "Back to Fenton."

"No." a curly strand fell from Valerie's bun as she shook her head. "I've always liked Fenton. This...is for Phantom. Just until we kick Vlad's ass." She said, taking his hand and intertwining her red gloved fingers with his silver ones. "The ghost and the ghost hunter. And a really bad misunderstanding." Danny nodded.

"I'm sorry that I-"

He doubled over as Valerie buried her fist in his stomach.

"Apology accepted." she said, pulling her fist away and rubbing her knuckles.

"Ah... o-okay." Danny wrapped an arm around his stomach. He straightened with noticeable difficulty. "I guess I had that coming." With a curt nod, Valerie picked up her gun, checked it for dents, and forced it snugly into her holster.

Jazz stepped between them with a furious glare in Valerie's direction.

"Can we focus on our real enemy here? _Vlad_?"

Valerie glared back.

"Jazz is right." Sam said. "Danny, do you remember anything?" Sam asked, and every set of eyes turned to him. His green eyes flitted to the floor.

"No." he rubbed his stomach where Valerie had punched him. "The last thing I remember was just..being angry. And then red, and after that.." he shrugged.

"You guys have seen it." Sam jumped as Ember materialized next to her. She didn't know when the Rockstar ghost had vanished, but she guessed it was probably about the time that Valerie had pulled out the gun. Maybe not vanished, but just...waited. Invisibly. "What that nutcase has done to the Ghost Zone."

"What happened to the Ghost Zone?" Danny asked, his bright eyes suddenly brighter. Sam glanced to Tucker, he to her, but it was Jazz who ended up giving an explanation. Or, a quick summary of the chaos, at least. At the end, Maddie's lips were pulled tight into a grim line, while Danny's mouth hung open in shock. After everything that Vlad had done, Sam didn't know why he would still be so surprised. Perhaps he was shocked to see that Vlad had more power than he had even imagined. And that he had helped, somehow, with whatever horrible plan Vlad already had on the way.

"I need to get into the Ghost Zone." Danny said. His face had lost all of its color, making him look like, well, a ghost.

"Uh, Dipstick?" Ember snapped her fingers in his face. "Were you listening at all? The Zone is _overrun_. Vlad has pretty much taken over."

"Not where I'm going." Danny shook his head, and brushed some of the loose strands back with a quick sweep of his hand.

"Danny, you think..." Jazz raised her eyebrows with him. A silent conversation passed between them, spoken only through their eyes. Danny nodded to her, ending whatever discussion they shared, and turned back to the five other spectators.

"I have to go." Danny told them. His feet were already hovering above the ground before the words escaped his lips. "I have to fix this, somehow, and I know somebody who can help." Sam wanted to ask who, but Danny had that distant, cloudy expression that told her she wouldn't be getting any definitive answers any time soon.

"Can we come with you?" Tucker asked. Sam could tell by his hooded eyes that Tucker already knew what the answer would be. She knew, too.

"No. Not this time." He must have read the disappointment on their faces, because his feet thudded back to the ground. "I'm sorry, guys, but I think Amity needs you more than anything right now." He took Sam's hand in his and traced his thumb over the back of her fingers. "Just in case something happens."

 _"Like what?"_ is what Sam wanted to ask, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. There was a lot of things that could happen. The thought of Vlad's army loomed over her like an immense shadow, as if the thought of Vlad himself wasn't bad enough. She remembered the swirling green vortex that was buried underneath the rubble of Danny's old home and wondered when that army would pour out, armed and ready to take over her city. And more.

"Be careful, okay?" Was what Sam found herself saying. How many times had she said that? Too many. But she meant it every time, and now more than ever. "Wherever you're going. Be careful."

"I will." Danny said. He kissed the top of her head. "You too. Take care of Tucker."

Tucker grumbled at that, and Danny's breath ruffled her hair when he laughed. Sam felt a laugh building in her throat, but it couldn't find its way out.

"I'll be back." Danny said. He squeezed her hand once more before dropping it. That laugh found its way out as a hoarse croak.

"Wait." she pulled his face down to hers before he could float away and planted a kiss on his lips. It made that knot in her stomach disperse for a few seconds. She knew it would come back the second he disappeared, but she chose not to think of the future while she had him right there in front of her. In the present.

"Don't get hurt." Danny said. His feet lifted from the ground, ready to fly. "I'll be back."

Sam nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. The only thing that came to mind to say was another "Be careful," but she knew saying it again wouldn't ensure that he would listen. No matter how many times she said it. And then he disappeared, and Sam felt her stomach sink back into a knot. She'd had him back for less than an hour, and already he was gone again.

* * *

There were a few moments in Sam Manson's life that clung to her memory, that she could recall in exact detail, no matter how many years had passed. That second that boomed rippled through the city, engulfing the sky in ash. Kneeling at the charred rubble of her best friend's house. The first time she had ever kissed Danny. Watching the tears stream down Maddie's cheeks as she held her son for the first time in years. Every sound, sight, feeling, even the smallest things stuck with her. Like the smell of cookies just before smoke, the pain of glass shredding through her racing feet.

This time, she remembered bright blue sky and the soft lull of classical music streaming through the stereo of Jazz Fenton's car. Jasmine herself lecturing Valerie about how if she _ever_ pointed a gun at _her_ little brother again...well, they never learned just what Jazz would do. And if someone was ever to ask, Sam could still hum the soft piano music that wafted through the air when the sky turned green.

"Oh my God. What _is_ that?" Valerie shouted as Jazz slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a screaming halt. No one answered. They didn't need to.

The sky, already glowing green with power, was quickly filling with luminous figures that Amity Park had come to know quite well over the past few years. Ghosts. An army of them, and Sam could guess pretty easily where it came from.

"Vlad's army!" Tucker's fingers dug into the leather armrest on his seat. "T-there's so many!" Sam ground her teeth. He was right. The numbers filling the sky was probably double what they had seen in the Ghost Zone, and more poured out every second they sat there, dumbfounded, in the middle of the road.

"Jazz-drive!" Mrs. Fenton ordered. Jazz obeyed, slamming on the gas pedal hard enough to make the whole car lurch, throwing everyone back into their seats.

"Look out!"

Jazz swerved as a ghost, a deep blue color that Sam had never seen before, thudding against the hood of her car. It flew off, tumbling into the road when Jazz jerked the wheel. She didn't pause to look back.

"Where am I going?" Jazz nearly screamed, swerving between cars that lay still in the road, their drivers too shocked to remember how to drive. Jazz had no such qualms. She could drive, but driving safely was a different matter entirely. Proper driving etiquette was usually lost in paranormal invasions anyway.

"The school!" Sam shouted. A ghost slammed against her window, and Sam gripped her seat a little tighter. "It has the biggest stockpile of weapons in the whole city."

"Casper?" Maddie gasped. The woman turned in her seat to look at Sam, and was thrown against the window as Jazz flew over a speedbump. Though Sam had never seen a speed bump look so much like a glowing purple tail. She gulped. Goth or not, she _hated_ snakes.

"Yes! Casper! Jazz, do you think we can make it?"

"We can try." she stepped on the gas a little harder. One of Sam's nails tore and remained imbedded in leather as the rest of her body smashed into the cushion of her seat. She gaped at the scene speeding past the window.

The whole city seemed to pulse as if under strobe lights. Green, blue, purple blurs sped past her, some of them slow enough to press their ugly faces against her window. If Jazz hadn't been driving at the closest thing to the speed of light a Toyota Corolla could get, they may have tried to break the window. Screams coated over the soft piano music in Jazz's stereo, so out of place now. Those screams came from the few people still left on the streets, while most of the doors and windows of homes were boarded up by now. Amity was well prepared for ghosts, but never this many. Sam gaped in horror as legions of ghosts barreled through the home barriers, crashing through doors and shattered the glass in windows. More screams followed the glittering green shards of glass. Sam wanted to cover her ears, but she couldn't move.

The Corolla's tires shrieked as Jazz brought the car to a halt in the school parking lot. Everyone tumbled out, and if Sam wasn't too busy trying to swat at the ghostly hands that pulled at her hair, she might have taken the time to be amazed at what a great parking job jazz did. Even in the middle of a crisis, she could still park right within the lines.

"We need to get past that ghost shield!" Valerie yelled. Sam saw that she was right. A soft pink dome glowed over the school. Ghosts bounced off it harmlessly, but that didn't stop them from trying. "You guys go. I'll get your back."

"Val-" Tucker reached for her, only for his hand to be roughly shoved away.

"Go!" she shouted. "I still have my suit." As if to prove it, she shot a ghost straight out of the air. It tumbled to the ground, smoking, and splattered against the asphalt. "Get inside. Now!"

Sam let her pride bow, only this once, and obeyed the demands of the Red Huntress. She grabbed Tucker by the elbow and tugged him along with her. She fired her wrist wray, her constant companion, as they ran. It didn't do much, but it was enough to clear the way. One hundred feet away. A ghost slammed into the pavement, shrieking at the hole in its chest. Sam couldn't tell if that was from her or Valerie. She didn't stop to check.

Seventy five feet. Something slammed into her. She stumbled, swinging her arms furiously at her invisible enemy.

"Come on!" Tucker said, pulling Sam to her feet. Maddie and Jazz pulled up beside them, also arm in arm. Jazz was firing a wrist wray of her own.

Fifty feet. A window shattered somewhere behind them. More screams. Maddie smacked vulture-like ghost out of the air with a bat from Jazz's car. It looked like any other bat, except for the word FENTON painted on it. The green vultures went down with a pained _sqwuak_ , and Maddie silenced them under her boot.

Twenty five. Twenty. Ten. _Five_. For every ghost that fell at their feet, another five swarmed around their heads. They were _so_ close. Sam's foot brushed against the pink dome as hands tangled in her ebony hair, yanking her head back, and the rest of her body with it. Tucker gasped as her arm tore from his grasp.

"Sam!"

"Go!" She turned around to face her attacker. Red eyes, wispy blue hair. For a second, Sam thought it might have been Ember, but Ember had already departed to see if she could dig up any more news in the Ghost Zone. Plus, this ghost couldn't be older than ten. A young girl in a torn white dress. She snarled, baring her teeth, and her untamed fingernails went for Sam's throat. Unfortunately for the young ghost, Sam's wrist wray was faster. The ghost slumped against a tree in her smoking dress. Her body left a dent in the bark. With her eyes closed, and the red hidden, she looked almost peaceful. Sam wondered, for only a brief second, what she would be like without the red eyes.

"Sam!" Tucker shouted over the screams of the ghosts. His arm hooked hers again.

"Valerie!"

Sam could just barely see the outline of a red suit against the blurs of green flying past. She started forward, but that red outline beat her to it. Valerie burst past the figures, shooting down any that dared defy her.

"I'm here!"  
"Come on!" Sam grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her forward. Together, they lurched towards the dome. A breath of relief escaped Sam's lips as Maddie and Jazz slipped past the barrier, followed quickly after by Tucker. Sam swore a tuft of her hair was pulled out as she dove past the barrier herself, bringing Valerie along with her. The ghosts behind them howled as Sam and Valerie thudded against the cement walkway of the school.

"Sam, Tucker, Valerie!"

Sam drug her face up from the pavement at that familiar voice. Tiny arms hauled Sam to her feet. "We saw you coming. Are you alright?"

"Star?" Sam spluttered, spitting grass. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Wednesday." her brow raised incredulously. "We have, you know, _school_."

Sam's wide eyes rose to the window as she struggled to her feet, where a hundred sets of eyes stared down at her from the window. Star dragged Sam towards the door, while Tucker did the same for Valerie. As Sam passed through the threshold with a thousand shrieking ghosts beating against the dome behind her, she realized that she had never, in her whole life, been so happy to go to school.

"You mean the whole school is here?" Jazz asked, her voice high with incredulity. Star nodded, slamming the door behind them and locking it.

"Good." Tucker sighed.

"Good?"

"Yeah," a small smile graced Tucker's tired face. "This is a ghost hunting academy for a reason right? We're more qualified than anybody."

"Um, sorry," Valerie muttered between gasps. Her hands were on her knees as she heaved in air. Sam couldn't blame her-she would be doing the same thing if she wasn't so horrified. "qualified for _what_?"

Tucker wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead and rubbed the back of his hand on his already drenched shirt. His beret barely clung to his head. He straightened it and squashed it down.

"An army of our own."

 **A/N: Thanks for reading!**


	26. Chapter 26

It took everything Sam had to keep herself from wringing her hands, chewing her lips. She was the outsider, the weirdo, but now...

"Uh, Sam?" Dash clambered to his feet, holding a tiny wrist wray in his hands. It was regular size actually, but compared to his massive hands, it looked like a pacifier. "How many of these?"

"Just one of each."

"Oh, okay." The quarterback said, slipping the bracelet device on his wrist. It almost didn't fit, but after a few seconds of squeezing and pushing, it slipped on. He looked up at her for approval, purple eyes wide and nervous. She couldn't blame him. She was nervous too.

"That's fine. Now a gun. It should fit on your beltloop." Dash nodded. He scooped up a gun, stuck it on his belt, and ambled over to his friends. They were across the gym, watching him expectantly from their places.

"Tucker?" she glanced over at the boy. He was crouched over a pile of ectoguns, handing them out to students. "How are we doing on guns?"

"We've got plenty left." He answered. She didn't really need to ask, she could see that much from where she was, but it was good to hear his voice. Any sense of familiarity was welcome.

"Sam, are you sure this is such a good idea?" Maddie crouched down beside her and picked up a wrist wray. She turned it around in her hands, running her fingers over the small, but powerful features. "These weapons are dangerous. I would know-I made them myself." she slipped it on her wrist. "Are you sure these kids are qualified?"

"I know it doesn't seem like it," Sam said, and looking around, she couldn't believe they were either. She couldn't believe anything that was happening. An invasion. Maddie being, well, _alive_. And Danny.. Sam swallowed the lump in her throat. Where was he? Sam cleared her throat and pushed the thought of him back into her subconscious. "but this is what we've been trained to do. I mean, most of us haven't seen much combat, but at this point, we really have no choice." As if on cue, a the ghost dome shuddered. Sam watched it shake through the window, listened to the ghosts howl as they slammed themselves against it. She could see their red eyes glitter behind the green sheen. Behind the horde, a movement caught her eye. A movement larger than the rampage of a thousand angry ghosts.

"I guess you're right, but-"

"What is that?" The movement brought Sam running towards the window. Pressing her hands against the cold glass, she gaped as a dome, much like the one the school was hidden under now, descended over the entire city. The glow of the ghosts illuminated it into a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, traces of scarlet red. Even the ghosts stopped their howling for a second to look, and then, to Sam's horror, they howled even louder.

"Mrs. Fenton..."

"I've never made anything like that." the woman said, and Sam's heart sunk even lower. The whole gym went silent. The weapons were dropped, tears momentarily dried as the students watched in awed horror as the dome clicked into place.

"Is-is it a ghost shield?" Star asked. Even her quiet voice was amplied in the silence.

"No, ghost shields are electromagnetic impulses. This is too...solid."

Sam saw in the silent answer in Maddie's wide, horrified eyes. It was a cage. Not for the ghosts, for _them._ The realization struck her like an arrow to the heart. They were trapped like a bug under a bowl.

The hush behind her crumbled against the growing whimpers of the students. The breaths they all held began to escape their chests in ragged puffs. Sam turned to face them, and met with the terrified eyes of those who were still brave enough to keep them open. The same people that had once hated her, mocked at her, now watched her like she was supposed to save them. Sam gulped and hoped they couldn't see the fear in her own eyes. "Everyone," her voice cracked, but she was the only one that seemed to notice. "Get your suits on. We-we don't have time to sit around. The people out there need us. We have to move fast." Her head swiveled, scanning the crowd as they all stared back at her silently. She gulped again. "Go!"

The order set the crowd back into motion. The eyes fell from her and darted amongst themselves. Then they set back to work, clipping guns on their belts, casting worried glances out the window every so often. The ghosts continued to batter themselves against the shield. Sam bit her tongue as it shuddered, but didn't break. She sighed a breath of relief as the shield regained its balance, though she knew it couldn't last forever.

"How are you holding up, Sam?" Jazz whispered. She handed Sam a wrist wray, tested and approved herself.

"I'm..." Sam shrugged. "I'm doing okay."

"You're scared?"

"Aren't you?"

A quiet laugh slipped past Jazz's chapped lips. Her eyes were still ringed with red from crying, though it was faded now.

"Good point. I guess we'd be crazy not to be." She picked another wrist wray from the pile and examined it. She tested it, and then handed it to Sam. "They're listening to you." Jazz motion, gun in hand, to the people donning suits and checking their weapons.

"I don't know why. I'm not exactly...popular."

"But you're a champion."

"A what?"

Jazz sighed tiredly. Her hands reached for another gun to check.

"A champion. You know, from the tournament that you trained so hard for? With Danny? The ghostbusters gang?"

"Oh. Right." Sam whispered. She passed the gun down the line. It was snatched a second later by eager hands. "That doesn't even feel like this lifetime."

"I know." Jazz admitted. "Everything that's happened, it-it's all so much." She shook her head. "In less than twenty-four hours, my trusted guardian has become my worst enemy, my dead mother is now alive and armed, my entire town is the center of a spectral invasion-" she slammed a gun down on the table. "And since when have you and my brother been a...a thing?"

Sam dropped the gun at the new direction of Jazz's outburst,but she managed to catch it before it hit the ground. Her fumble made her already red cheeks even redder. She hadn't been expecting that question, especially at a time like this.

"Um, I don't know." Sam hastily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "It hasn't been that long." She passed the wray to the next student in line, hoping they hadn't heard her conversation. By the absent look on the boy's face, Sam guessed he had a lot more to be worried about than her relationships.

"He didn't tell me about you guys, and he's supposed to tell me everything."

"I don't think he had the time. We'd only been a...a couple, I guess, for a day or two before Vlad got control of him."

"It took you guys that long to admit it? Really?" Jazz chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, I know." Sam traced the _Fenton_ on the gun. It was quickly becoming a habit.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?"

Sam only sighed, an answer enough.

"I used to worry myself crazy. And I still do sometimes, but with Danny, you just gotta.." Jazz made a fluttering motion with her hands that Sam didn't quite understand.

"Gotta...what?"

Jazz's hands dropped back to the table. She shook her head slowly.

"You just gotta let him go. Do his thing." Her fingers left smudges on the gun's silver paint as she passed it through inspection. "I know sometimes it doesn't seem like he knows what he's doing, but he does. Usually."

"Of course." Sam whispered. Her gaze strayed to the window and the chaos beyond it. "I just wish I could be there with him."

"Sam."

A tug on her sleeve pulled Sam's eyes from the howling beasts outside. "Look at this." He held the screen of his PDA up to her face. Static lines traced over the screen, but the image was unmistakable. A man in a suit (and expensive one by the look of it) sat behind a desk, his hands tightly folded on the cherry wood surface. An American flag hung limply beside him, as if asleep at its post.

"Is that-" Sam gasped, taking the PDA into her own hands. She didn't have to lift her eyes to see Tucker nod, a rapid blur in her peripheral vision. She clicked up the volume a notch. Part of her dreaded what she would hear, but she had to hear it nonetheless.

"...the Amity Crisis, I repeat, is being taken care of as we speak. But as a precaution, I will inform you once again that an _immediate_ evacuation has been declared in the surrounding cities for your safety. Please..." Static blotted out the sound of his voice. A voice that Sam had been forced to know, because wealthy people like her parents were supposed to know everything to know about politics. And that meant that she would have to know everything, too-including the voice of the President of the United States.

Sam shook the PDA, hoping it would shock the thing back to life. Despite Tucker's exasperated roll of the eyes, it worked. Or maybe it was just luck that brought the picture back into focus and sound back into the speakers.

"...but that it not the case."

"Tuck, what is he talking about?" Sam hissed, feeling that she missed something terribly important in those few seconds of static. "Rewind it."

"I can't, Sam-"

"Why not?" she thrust the PDA towards his hands, but he didn't take it. Tucker Foley pulling away from his PDA, Sam mused, might have been an even stranger sight than a ghostly invasion. For some reason, the thought made her want to cry. "You're supposed to be the tech genius! Why won't you rewind it?"

"Cause it's a _live_ broadcast." He barked, all of his exhaustion and irritation pouring into that one word. "You can't replay live footage, and it took _major_ hacking to get reception, so don't freaking lose it! Now shut up and watch, or your going to miss the rest of it, too."

As much as Sam hated being told to shut up, she held her tongue for the time being. Her eyes fixed back on the screen, now only splotches of color between the black and white, and hoped that she hadn't missed anything crucial.

"... _will_ get to the source of this incident. Thank you, America, and please remember-" Sam clutched the PDA with white fingers as the President shot up from his chair, falling against the flagpole. Even through the static, she could hear the ringing clatter of the pole crashing to the ground, the flag just a flash of red, white, and blue before it fell out of the shot.

"What's going on?" Sam nearly jumped at Jazz's voice, right next to her ear. "What's he looking at?"  
"I don't know." Sam murmured. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the President, his own eyes wide in terror as he stared at something out of the shot. Guards swarmed around him, guns raised at what Sam couldn't see.

"Mr. President?"

Sam recognized that voice.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt,"

 _"No,"_ Sam thought. She shook her head. _"It can't be."_

"but I don't have much time."

The camera suddenly jerked, turning the president and the ocean of guards around him into a black blur. It focused on a new face, the owner of the voice. Sam felt her heart soar and her stomach turn sour at the same time.

"Don't shoot, please. I'm only here to talk." Static took over for a few more seconds, in which Sam bit her tongue and fought down a tantrum of impatience. When it came back, no one had moved and no shots had been fired.

 _"Oh my God,"_ was all she could think.

"-will shoot!" one of the guards shouted. It was hard to tell which one with all of their faces obscured by heavy black helmets, but Sam guessed it was the one in the front, whose finger was already pressing against the trigger. Not enough to shoot, but almost. Sam wanted to scream, but her throat seemed to swell in on itself. She could barely breathe, much less scream.

"Hey, what's going on?" a student, not-so-patiently waiting in the weapons line asked. Sam recognized the voice vaguely, but didn't care enough to look up. "Where's my wray?"

Sam would have told him to shut up, if her eyes hadn't been glued to the PDA, the guard with the gun, and the boy with his hands raised in a gesture of peace.

"I just said _not_ to shoot." the camera zoomed in a little closer on the boy, who watched the guards calmly. He didn't seem to care that he had a gun pointed in his face, like he'd dealt with a lot worse than a few guns, which Sam knew was true. "It won't do any good. Bullets go right through me."

They didn't listen. Gunshots took over the audio, so many that it sounded like a hurricane captured on tape. But when the storm was over, the boy was still standing there. Bullet holes littered the wall behind him, but not a single scratch marred his black suit.

"Told you." He said, the smirk on his lips all too familiar to Sam. Her fingers were beginning to ache from holding the PDA so tightly. She loosened them just a bit, listening to the heavy breaths of the camera man. They were shaky, the trembling gasps of a man who thought he was about to die. And yet, he kept the camera straight. He would undoubtedly be getting a raise after this.

A series of shouts rippled from the assembly of guards, all still holding their weapons at the boy who was indifferent about semi-automatic weapons and, it seemed, bullets. A few of the guards stumbled or fell, each shouting as they went down.

 _"What now?"_ Sam worried.

"Hey, Sam," a shaky voice called her, but she didn't dare look up. She couldn't miss anything. Not a single second. "I think something's wrong-"

"Shut up!" she hissed without taking her eyes off the screen.

"But-"

She tuned the voice out. The guards were stumbling left and right as something, or someone, bulldozed past them. Finally, a face peeked out from the mass of black suited guards.

"Mr. President!" several shouted, trying in vain to pull the small, but stocky man back. He shoved their hands away.

"You!" the President shouted. His calm broadcast voice was gone. He was loud, and definitely demanding. The same surprise on Sam's face flickered across the boy's face. "Who are you? How did you get past security?" he roared.

"Uh," the boy rubbed the back of his neck. Somewhere in front of her, someone shouted Sam's name. The vague sound of thunder rumbled in her ears. "invisibility. It's kind of a ghost thing."

"A _what_?"

The camera man squeaked, and the boy glanced at him, if only for a second. His eyebrows shot up, like he had forgotten the camera man was there. His cheeks glowed a soft green before his eyes flicked back to the president.

"Look-Mr. President, I'm here on behalf of Amity Park, and-"

"What do you know about Amity Park?" the President interrupted. His voice was gruff, but subdued curiosity danced in his eyes. Eyes that kept darting between the boy in the black jumpsuit and the bullet holes behind him.

"I know it's in trouble, and that we don't have much time."

"We?"

The guards whispered in the President's ear, some trying to pull him behind them. He muscled his way past them, despite being much smaller and bare of armor.

"We." the boy said, taking a step closer. Or floating a step closer. The guards swarmed in towards the President, but he didn't move. Sam felt a grudging respect for the man. She stopped breathing as a rumbling took over the microphone, until she realized it wasn't coming from the speakers. It was coming from _outside_. Shouts on top of it, some calling her name. She glanced up, just long enough to see a swarm of students rushing to the window of the gymnasium, standing on their toes to see out of it. Sam could barely see past their heads. She strained to listen to the video and watch the horror scene in front of her at the same time.

"I'm here to help."

The green ghost shield shuddered. More rumbling. A telephone pole collapsed, smashing into the house beneath it. She hoped no one was still in that house, now crushed to bricks and splinters. On the screen, whatever the President's response was, was blocked out by static. Sam didn't have to check to see if the screen was fuzzy. With the telephone pole down, she guessed she would only have a few more seconds of the video. At most.

"My name's Danny Phantom-" static. Panicked breaths from the camera man. "- and I have a plan." Sam sneaked one last glance down at the screen. The boy in the black suit, hand extended towards the President of the United States, who only stared at it in shock.

Outside there was a crash, a scream, and the screen went to black.

Hands grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. That's when she realized that it was more than just the PDA that went black, but everything. The lights had gone out, courtesy of the sheared power lines. As she watched, another one fell, this one igniting in flames. The crash rattled the shield as the powerline plunged into someone's home, once a beautiful two story house. Now it was black smoke and shattered glass, glowing orange in the firelight.

"We have to get those people out of there." Sam croaked, her throat raw. She tore her eyes from the flames and watched the shield flicker once, twice. They didn't have long before that, too, went down in flames. "Maddie," Sam said, remembering that the same woman who designed and built those shields was standing right beside her. "The shield is fading. Can you repair it or...something?"

Maddie turned her violet eyes to the shield. It glowed weakly. For now.

"It's an old shield." she said, more to herself than to Sam. "Maybe...maybe I can. But I need to find the source of the power."

"I know the school has a generator somewhere." Tucker said. "That could turn the lights back on and power the shield, right?"

Maddie gave a tense nod. The fading green light washed on her face, turning her wrinkles the color of fresh pine needles. They traced her face like vines.

"I could help." Tucker offered.

"No."

Their eyes snapped to Sam as she said it, squinted in confusion. The vines grew a bit longer near the corner of Maddie's eyes. "Tucker, I'm gonna need you. I'm going out there, and I need somebody I trust out there with me."

He nodded. Jazz and Maddie nodded, too, hesitantly.

"What is it, sweetie?" Maddie asked hurriedly.

Sam blinked in confusion, until she realized that Maddie wasn't looking at her, but somewhere past her.

"I know where the generator is. And I-I'm pretty good with mechanical stuff. I can work a generator." Dash stuttered.

It was Sam that Maddie looked to for approval, eyebrows raised in a silent ' _is he good enough'_? Sam shrugged. He was no use on the battlefield. Despite his size, he was a total scaredy cat. She'd known him long enough to know that.

"What's your name, Hon?" Maddie asked, taking Sam's shrug for a yes.

"Dash." he gulped. "Dash Baxter."

"Well, Dash. I'm Maddie." Mrs. Fenton said, reaching out her hand to shake his. Dash's eyes suddenly narrowed, brow furrowing in recognition.

"She's, um, my aunt." Sam said, not wanting to explain how the long dead Maddie Fenton had suddenly come back to life to shake his hand and fix the school generator. "She'll help."

"I think I know you." Dash muttered.

"Not likely, unless you've ever been to California." Sam answered quickly. He studied Maddie for a second longer, enough to make Sam worry that even a dumb bell like Dash could figure it out, but he didn't. She let out a little sigh, barely noticeable, as Dash nodded.

"Okay. Nice to meet you, Sam's Aunt Maddie."

"You guys work on the shield." Sam commanded. "As fast as you can. We need someplace safe to shelter the people." Dash nodded.

"Lead the way, Dash." Maddie said, gently prodding him forward.

"Come on, Tucker." Sam tapped her silver bracelet. A tiny gun came out, glowing with power. Sam sucked in a breath and held it as she scanned the crowded gymnasium. Countless eyes watched her, silently waiting for her word. She would need them, as many as she could muster up. What she was about to do was more than a two man job. "Let's pick our teams."

* * *

No one pretended like they weren't scared. It was written on their faces, and they didn't try to hide it. What was the point? Standing at the doors of chaos, with only a thinning shield in between a bunch of teenagers and furious, red eyed ghosts, it would be stupid not to be afraid.

"Remember what we've learned." Sam hoped her voice sounded stronger to them than it did to her. To her surprise, it didn't shake or falter. A miracle, really. "There are people out there-friends, and family." Her voice almost cracked then, thinking about her mom and dad. Her grandma. She hadn't tried to call them. Honestly, she hadn't even thought of them until then, when she didn't have the time to. "Find your family, your mom and dad, your little sisters and brothers. Bring them back."

The ghosts wailed as they slammed against the shield, but the group ignored them. They nodded, fear on their faces, but there was more than that. Determination, a bit of anger, perhaps. Sam had so many emotions swirling around in her head that she didn't feel anything at all. She guessed some of them might be feeling the same numbness right about then.

She scanned their faces. Sarah Bailey's eyes met with hers. Sam remembered taking her down in the competition, which seemed like a hundred years ago. Dale was with them, too, along with Kevin and some more football boys. A few weeks ago, Sam would have wished that she'd never have to see their ugly mugs again. Now, she was terrified of that same thought.

She reached for Tucker, only to remember that he wasn't there. He was busy leading his own team. She would have settled for Star, but she was busy with Jazz and the medical team. Even Valerie would have been okay, but Valerie had her own team, too. She would have to make do with the team she had.

Sam pulled her ectogun from her belt, and the rest followed suit. All her life, she was the outsider, the weirdo, but now..she was the leader.

"For family." She said.

"Family!" The team echoed. Without another word, she turned and broke past the shield, into a world of swirling green, glowing red eyes, and screams. An underworld on earth. With screams of their own, her team followed.

 **A/N: Thanks to everyone reading! See you next update!**


	27. Chapter 27

"Just a little bit farther." Sam said over her shoulder. She had to yell for the old lady to hear, partially because she was almost deaf, and partially because the screams were loud enough to make _her_ deaf, too. The woman's eyes rose to hers, wide and terrified, but she didn't say a thing. Most of her energy, it seemed, was being expelled through huffs and gasps of exhaustion. Sam couldn't blame her. She could feel exhaustion coursing through her blood, making her bones shake and her lungs ache.

"Sam!" a voice shouted from somewhere behind her. Or was it ahead? There was so much screaming, shouting, so much _chaos,_ she couldn't tell whether she was swimming deeper into the chaos or closer to the surface.

The answer came from ahead.

The shout caught her attention, just in time to see something very green and very fast hurtling towards her. Too fast to shoot or run. So she ducked, and dragged the old lady down with her. The fire of a gun blasted in Sam's ears as that green thing plummeted into the pavement next to her.

"Come on!" Sam cried, hauling the old lady to her feet. Pain flashed across her eyes, but she didn't complain. The woman tripped over her own feet, and would have fallen and taken Sam down with her, if Sarah hadn't caught her arm.

"Sam, are you okay?" Sarah asked, holding up the woman with one hand and her gun in the other.

"I'm...fine." Sam answered in between pants. "Thanks for that."

Sarah nodded and draped the woman's arm over her shoulder.. "You had your hands full."

The elderly woman stumbled again. Her grip tightened on the girl's arms, making both wince. For an old woman, she sure had some strength.

"Hang on, ma'm." Sam's voice came out raspy. "The school is just ahead..." she grit her teeth in the direction of the school, somewhere just past that building."

The struggle was getting past the building, and through the horde of ghosts in between them and that big green dome of safety. Sam watched as a billboard tumbled to the ground. It disappeared behind what used to be a grocery store. The crash and cloud of debris was enough to tell her what happened.

"Sarah." Sam said as loudly as her raw throat allowed, which wasn't very loud. How long had it been? An entire day of shouting, probably more, had left her with barely more than a whisper. Somehow, Sarah heard. Sam jerked her chin to the side, a silent message that thankfully, Sarah seemed to understand.

 _"The alley. Take the alley."_

Not the best advice in any other situation, but this wasn't any other situation. She'd done enough runs back and forth from the city to the school, scared and sometimes injured residents in tow, to know that the main street was absolutely overrun. They had to take the long way, unless they wanted to be swarmed with more ghosts than they could handle.

Sarah nodded, and together they tumbled into the alley. It was dark, aside from the eery green glow that lit the entire city, but it was empty. A breath of relief slipped past Sam's lips, and then the faintest hint of a laugh at the thought that a dark alley in the middle of the night was the safest route they could find. Amity Park had fallen on bad times.

Sarah's foot landed on a bottle that went skittering out from underneath her. She cursed and stumbled while the bottle echoed down the alley. She caught herself, or rather, the brick wall caught her. She grumbled at it and trudged on.

"Stay here." Sam ordered. Sarah and the woman came to a halt, and by their heavy breaths and the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of their faces, Sam guessed the two of them were more than fine with taking a little break.

Alone, Sam edged along the wall of the alley, stepping over reeking trash bags and tipped over cans. She'd memorized where everything that might make a sound if she'd stepped on it was or should be. Silence was an advantage, and they needed every advantage they could muster. Sam crept up the the corner and held her breath. She pulled a handheld mirror, what she used to use for make up checks, and slowly stuck it past the corner. Make up mirror no longer. Another alley came into view, just as dark and menacing as the one she was in. Gross and creepy, yes, but empty. And empty was the best thing it could be.

Sam stuck the mirror back in her belt and waved the other two forward. They trudged, slowly but surely up to her.

"Clear?" Sarah whispered. Sam nodded, wanting to preserve what was left of her voice as much as she could. Sam hooked the woman's arm around her shoulder and pushed forward. She could feel the bones of the lady's too-skinny arms grinding against her wrinkled skin. She wondered if it hurt.

A boom in the distance, a flash of green. Sam forced herself to ignore it. She had to focus on this alley, her next step, the people beside her. She quickly learned that in a battlezone, which is what her beloved city now was, she couldn't let anything distract her from her mission, or she'd never get anything done. Or get killed, which didn't sound like a good idea either.

Sam flattened her back against the wall as a ghost darted overhead, its toxic green tail brushing against the tops of the buildings. It flew past without bothering to look down, a blessing that Sam would remember to thank her lucky stars for later.

"That was close." Sarah murmured. Sam had to agree.

"They're not...flying...as much." to Sam's surprise, it was the old woman at her elbow that spoke. She hadn't said a word since Sam pulled her from a totaled car.

"You're right." Sam muttered.

"That must be good." Sarah added.

Sam looked to the sky again, wishing to see black and twinkling stars. All she saw was a pulsing green. At least she didn't see any red eyes staring back at her. Her eyes fell back to the alley and she pushed forward, the other two making their way along with her.

 _"The ghosts. They're not flying as much."_ Sam heard the woman's voice echoing in her head. _"That must be good."_ Sarah's now. But was it? It was easier to get around, but at the same time... _"it's almost like they're settling in for good."_ That thought was all hers. She was beginning to hate the inner Sam in her head.

"A little more." she said aloud. "There's only one more alley after this, and then we're there."

The woman (Sam still didn't know her name) nodded tiredly. Her eyes were sunken, hair knotted into tufts. Sam doubted she looked any better.

Sam extracted her arm from the woman's and pulled the mirror from her pocket. She thought, for a second, about glancing down into it and seeing just how much she looked like the old woman just then, but she had more important uses for it. And she had enough to worry about already-her appearance didn't need to add to the list of grievances.

With her shoulder blades pressed against the rough brick of a gray wall, Sam stuck the mirror out in front of her and twisted it, trying to catch every angle in the reflection before she blindly jumped in. She'd already made that mistake once, and a little girl had almost lost her life cause of it. She had more than just herself to worry about now, and she couldn't afford to make any more mistakes. Even little ones could amount to so much more.

She caught sight of a long forgotten sofa in the reflection. A rat scurried from the faded red cushion into a tipped trash can just across the way. All clear on that side. What was that? She caught her breath.

 _"False alarm."_ she thought to herself as a cat scurried into an old cardboard eyes caught another flicker of movement. " _But what was that?"_

She tilted the mirror, down, a little to the left, and...there. By the box with the cat, or maybe it was a different box.

Sam steadied the mirror carefully. She wouldn't skip a shadow this time, and she definitely didn't skip the hulking brute digging through the trash can. With at least double Sam's height, mottled gray skin and a black mohawk racing down the middle of his head, the ghost looked like a force to be reckoned with. The blister on her trigger finger ached.

"Is it clear?" Sarah whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, and apparently, the brute at the trashcan as well. Sam's teeth clamped down on her bottom lip as the ghost froze, listening. Bullet hole nostrils flared, and huge, somewhat misshapen green eyes found the reflection in the mirror.

 _"Shit."_

It roared, and green spit splattered against the wall.

"Get back!" Sam shouted to Sarah and the woman, who lurched away surprisingly nimbly for a old woman that had just survived a car accident. Sam raised her gun-she had a feeling she would need more than a wrist wray for this one. The ghost moved fast, despite it's hulking figure. It was on her in a second. A fist nearly the size of Sam's head sailed past. She ducked, just in time, and the fist smashed into the side of the brick wall. Bits of concrete and gray brick rained down on Sam's head as she rolled, coming to her feet just as the beast swung again.

"Sarah! Go!" Sam shouted. The ghost roared, as if the two of them had just entered into a shouting competition and he didn't want to lose. The blister on her finger burst as Sam pulled the trigger. The blast hit the ghost in the chest. Green boiled against gray. Something between a roar and a scream burst from it's mouth.

"Now!" Sam commanded as the ghost clutched at the hole in its chest. His lumpy fingers came back dripping with green. Sarah, with the old woman linked to her arm, darted past. The ghost didn't seem to notice them, but Sam didn't want to take any chances. She shot again.

This time, the ghost managed to dodge the ectoblast by lowering his head and charging like a bull. Sam couldn't tell whether he was trying to dodge, or he was just really angry. She didn't know which option was worse.

The already narrow alley seemed to be getting narrower. No room for a matador option, and something told her it would take more than one more shot to take this ghost down, and she didn't have time for even that.

"Shit." Sam hissed again, turning on her heel and sprinting, leaping, jumping over everything in her way. She didn't dare look back, but the roar behind her told Sam the ghost was gaining on her, and _fast_. She leaped over a fallen trashcan and kept running the second her feet hit the ground. Counting, one, two, three, she waited for the sound of metal being crushed under the ghost's massive feet. Four seconds. The alley echoed with the harsh, crumpling hiss, like the sound of a soda can smashed under a shoe, only about ten times louder. And then a roar.

Sam pointed the wrist wray behind her and shot blindly, praying that luck, for once, was on her side. But based on the day's events, she didn't guess that it was. The _thump_ of raw energy colliding with flesh, or whatever that thing was made up sang in her ears like sweet music. At lease one of the three shots had made contact. Something squished underneath Sam's foot, splattering up on her leg. She didn't dare stop to look. Sam had rounded a corner, and saw what she never expected would bring her so much hope. What had her life fallen to, that she was relieved to see a dumpster?

An unintelligible curse tore from the ghost's mouth in the form of a growl. Sam shot again over her shoulder. She didn't hear any impact this time. Her eyes focused on the dumpster ahead and she supposed, with stretched hope, that the top of the wall wasn't _that_ far from it.

 _"Come on, Sam."_ She urged her feet to move faster. She had to make it to that dumpster, her only hope. This time she did dare a glance back, a quick jerk of her head. The ghost was closer now (bad thing), but there seemed to be...less of it. (Good thing? Probably.). Half of its face was scrunched in an angry scowl, dark green spit smeared across its lips. One green eye, the same color as Danny's, Sam realized with somewhat revolted surprise, was narrowed furiously. The other eye was gone. The entire other half of its face was nothing but dripping, green ectoplasm. Maybe luck had been on her side with that shot.

 _"It's falling apart."_ Sam noted, impressively calm, considering her situation.

The _whoosh_ of a meaty fist swung dangerously close to the back of her head, and by the sting of it, probably yanking out a few strands of her hair. But that was the least of her worries. That same, growling roar sounded like it was right in her ear now. It was three seconds, possibly less, behind her. Her wrist wray fired again, and this time she knew it made contact. Something wet and terribly goupy splattered on the wall next to her face. She gagged on the smell of burnt ectoplasm and the thunderous cry of the ghost. As disgusting as it was, it gave her hope. If it was that unstable, then maybe, just possibly, her plan would work. And she didn't have time to think of another one, so it would have to.

Still running, she dropped her gun in exchange for an open hand. She grabbed the edge of the dumpster, prayed that it would be full enough to support her weight, and flung herself on top of it. The impact knocked the breath out of her, but she refused to slow. She rolled over the lid's surface and bounced on it like a trampoline.

 _"Please work."_ She begged..the dumpster? The wall? Herself? All of the above. A sense of dread filled her, a sudden thought that if she missed the edge of that wall, she was done for. And the thing behind her seemed to know that too. It's fist (she didn't know what else it could be) slammed into the bottom of her shoe. It felt like a bomb had exploded beneath her heel, but that impact was just enough to shoot her over the edge. That breath that Sam had only just then regained was forced out of her again as she hit the roof of the building shoulder first. She rolled on instinct, taking away the brunt of the impact. Pure relief took the difference.

The roar from below was cut off with a splat. Sam crept to the edge on her hands and knees and dared to look down. The brick wall adjacent to the alley looked as if someone had taken a giant bucket of green paint and splashed the whole thing on it. That single angry, green eye remained in a puddle of slime. It stared at her, eternally angry. She shot it for good measure.

"Guess it should have looked where it was going." Sam laughed, a true, bubbling laugh, despite the fact that she was covered in ectoplasm and rat droppings. But hey, at least she wasn't splattered against the wall. She eased a deep breath from her lungs. From the other side of the building came shouts, more ghostly than human now. She wondered what was happening down there.

 _"No, Sam. Don't look."_ the subconscious, logical side of her advised. As with most cases in Sam Manson's life, she ignored it. The pebbles on the roof made stabbing indents on Sam's knees and palms as she crawled closer to the opposite edge. It didn't take long before she was there, debating whether or not she was reckless enough to peek over the ledge. Reason lost again, and Sam followed the shouts.

The scene below was pretty much what she expected. Ghosts, all shapes, sizes, and degrees of nastiness littered the street below. They crowded before the school, growling and snarling at the protective dome around. A sigh of relief passed through Sam's lips when she realized that the dome wasn't flickering anymore.

 _"Thanks, Maddie."_ she thought. Sam was about ready to drop back into the alley and find Sarah when something caught her eye. Something that she hadn't seen since her fateful trip into the ghost realm. Her gaze fell upon the same kind of swirling vortex that lie underneath the rubble of the old Fenton Works, Danny's home. Now it was in the sky, hanging over the city like the Eye of Sauron.

"So that's where they're coming from." Sam muttered aloud. Even as she said it, more figures, blurred and colorful splotches with distance, emerged from the vortex. They came in singles, doubles, hordes of ghosts.

"Shit." she whispered. She needed to find her team. Her _old_ team. Tucker, Valerie, Danny...they would have to do without Danny for now. The anxious lump in Sam's stomach hardened into a rock at that thought.

Her eyes focused on the portal. How many more were on their way out as she sat and wondered? Tucker and Valerie needed to see this. Wherever they were.

She avoided looking at the green splat on the wall when her feet touched back down into the dirty alley. The rats scurried back into their forgotten boxes, tipped trash cans, and torn bags as her hurried footsteps echoed eerily off the walls.


	28. Chapter 28

"Sam!"

Sarah's relieved voice was the first thing Sam heard as she tumbled through the doors of the highschool, drenched in sweat and chest heaving with every labored breath.

"Sa..rah." Sam responded breathlessly. "You're...okay?"

"Fine." the girl nodded quickly. "Well, as fine as I could be. Considering." Sam got the point. She'd felt the same way for the past few years of her life.

"And the woman?" Sam asked when she had more or less regained her breath.

"Worried about you, but other than that I'd say she's doing okay."

"Considering?"

"Considering." a small smile cracked Sarah's serious facade. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Peachy. Have you seen Tucker? Or Valerie?"

Sarah glanced behind her, biting her lip.

"I saw Tucker a few minutes ago. I think he went back out."

"Damn." Sam accepted a water bottle from a boy on the medical team. She didn't realize how thirsty she was until the entire bottle was nothing but crumpled plastic in her palm. "What about..." Sam sucked in a deep breath and wiped her mouth. The water droplets turned the dust on her hand into black dew drops. "Valerie?" Sarah shook her head.

"I haven't-"

"MOVE!"

The door swung open, smacking Sam into the wall. She groaned, suddenly feeling a little sorry for the hulking brute in the alley. Karma.

"Out of the way, please! This kid needs help!" Sam peeled her face from the wall at that voice, the same one that had brought her plenty of pain in the past few months-being smashed against the wall was just the most recent one.

"Valerie." Sam said as she fingered the bruise forming on her jaw. "Just the girl I wanted to see." Valerie didn't seem to notice her. She was busy half carrying, half dragging the slumped figure of a boy. He looked to be a few years younger than herself, though it was hard to tell with his face obscured by matted hair. Matted with blood. Sam tongue pressed against the back of her clenched teeth.

"I got him."

"Jazz," Valerie muttered. Her voice was hoarse too, almost as bad as Sam's. "I pulled him out from under a collapsed building." her voice cracked. Sam couldn't tell whether her voice was just weak or she was about to cry. A little bit of both, was more likely. "He was like this when I found him."

"Another one." Jazz muttered quietly, scooping the boy's drooping head into her arms. Valerie helped her put him on a stretcher. "Thanks, Valerie."

"T-take care of him." the red huntress murmured. Sam wondered if she knew this boy somehow, or if..

"Sam." The pain blinked out of Valerie's voice at the word, if only for a second. "You don't look too good."

"You've seen better days yourself." Sam joked, and a very tiny, very broken smile appeared on Valerie's lips.

"Haven't we all?" She laughed, a cold, humorless laugh. "That boy," she said gesturing to the stretcher that Jazz was hastily scooting away. Sam wondered where all the injured were being kept. "he's the twelfth one I've brought in. Though most were in better shape than he was. They could still walk."

Sam's throat went dry. She lost count of how many she brought in. Somewhere between ten and twenty.

"And there's still more. There's so many, Sam." Her voice dropped into a hoarse whisper. "This school can only hold so many people."

Looking around, Sam saw that she was right. The school was already overflowing. People with broken legs and busted faces were sitting on the ground, just waiting for help because there were too many to deal with at once.

"Mrs. Fenton is trying to find buildings with ghost shields already built in. She's already got a shield around the hospital. What's left of it, at least." Sam gulped.

"You'd think the most haunted city in America would have more emergency ghost preparation."

Sarah said. The others had to agree. Sam swore she remembered a time before Vlad was in office, when the mayor had been pushing more protocol for these kind of situations, but when Vlad became mayor...well, it's pretty obvious why he didn't put any effort into it. Sam's gut twisted at the thought. This had been his plan all along.

"Val, have you seen Tucker?" Sam asked, forcing the thought of Vlad out of her mind.

"I did." Valerie nodded, wrinkling her nose in thought. "But that was probably a few hours ago. I think. Time doesn't feel the same anymore." Sam knew what she meant. She couldn't remember how long they'd been doing this, fighting for their lives. A few hours? A day? A week? It could have been years, and she wouldn't know the difference. "Last time I saw him, he had just brought in a handful of survivors. Then he was out the door again." Sam nodded, her lips curved into a frown. She hadn't seen even a glimpse of Tucker since they'd parted. She hadn't wanted to go into battle without him, but she had to accept that they would be of more use split up, leading two separate teams. Still...she wished he was with her now.

"I'm going back out. There's still people-"

"Wait." Valerie was halfway through the door before Sam caught her wrist. "I need your help." The words sounded foreign coming from Sam's mouth, especially to Valerie. Never, in all the time that they'd shared their bitter relationship, Sam never thought she would so openly say something along those lines to Valerie. But times were different, now that their world was falling apart. Their ancient feud seemed so insignificant in comparison.

"I know where they're coming from." Sam admitted, still clutching Valerie's wrist. "There's a portal over the city. Ghosts are leaking through like a runny faucet."

"Okay.." Valerie said slowly, realization dawning in her emerald eyes. "And you want to shut it down."

Sam nodded.

"If I can." Sam dropped her wrist. "Sarah?"

"Yeah?"  
"Can you take over for us? There's still survivors out there that need to be rescued."

"I got it."

"We'll find Tucker on the way. He'll have to help us." Sam said, stepping back from the door as Dale, a boy she remembered punching in the face once, and another boy burst in, carrying a pale family on their arms. Sam took a discarded ectogun from a table of missing belongings. It still had spots of blood on the shimmering silver surface. It would have to do, considering her own gun was lying in the alley somewhere by a dumpster and a green splat on the wall. "I don't think this is going to be a job we can do on our own." She expected Valerie to object, but the huntress only nodded grimly, her lips pulled into a tight line. This was no time for pride.

"Are you ready?" Valerie asked, her voice cracking with undisguised fatigue.

"Yes." Sam responded automatically. Was she really? No. Did she have a choice? No. She _had_ to be ready. There was no other option now. She tucked the bloody gun into her belt. "Let's go."

They took the back way to avoid the swarm of students and survivors flooding in. Through the school, past the people crying and bleeding, waiting for medical attention that would be a while yet. Sam tried not to look. They were a blur of faces as she ran past, Valerie close at her heels. Sam noticed a flash of blonde hair and a face that looked a lot like Star's tending to a crying child. She didn't stop to look.

 _"Good luck, Star. Wish me luck, too, if you're not too busy to think of it."_ Sam thought as she ran. Sam didn't slow when she reached the doors. She slammed into them, hard enough to throw them open and probably leave an ugly bruise on her arms. It wasn't her first, and it definitely wouldn't be her last, if things didn't drastically improve really fast.

"Sam," Valerie said as the door swung closed behind her. "Is it just me, or have they...multipled?"

The fear in her voice brought Sam's feet to a screeching halt. Her eyes, once searching the sky for any sign of that damn portal, fell to Valerie. The huntress pointed, and Sam followed the finger.

The horde of ghosts had expanded from the entrance of the school, now to the back. There was more. That stone in her stomach grew a little heavier. They were surrounded.

"They weren't there before." she murmured, her voice a whisper compared to the howling on the other side of the shield. How had she not heard it before? She'd grown so used to the sound, the screaming, crying, shouting, it had begun to sound _normal_.

 _"The rescue teams.."_ Sam thought with growing dread. _"The survivors, the children...soon they'll have no way in. Tucker..."_ Something like nausea crept in. Shaking, every breath out of her lungs felt like it was going to be her last. They had to find a way out of there. They had to clear a path, find some other way for everyone else to get in. And out, if need be. But _how_? They were humans, not ghosts. They couldn't phase through buildings, couldn't turn invisible, couldn't fly-

 _"Unless.."_

"Valerie!" Sam whirled to her so fast that the Huntress took a step back. "Your suit! The Red Huntress suit. You still have it?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Can you fly us out of here?"

Valerie's eyes rose, slowly, to Sam's, shiny as a newly polished mirror.

"Is there another way?"

"I don't think so, and we don't really have time to think." Sam said, struggling to keep her voice below a shout. With such a strained voice anyway, she didn't need to waste it.

Valerie hesitated.

"You've never had trouble with it before."

"I never knew the man who gave it to me was a power hungry psychopath before."

Sam blinked, and in that second, memories that she hoped to bury rushed back to her. Ember, in chains. Vlad and his staff, swirling with red evil. And Valerie...Valerie clutching the Red Huntress' suit in her trembling hands.

"Vlad." Sam mumured.

"He did this." Valerie hissed, eyes narrowed into slits as she stared at the shimmering dome and the howling ghosts beyond it. "That bastard. Liar."

"Valerie, I know you hate Vlad-trust me, I do too, but we need a way out of here. And that suit.."

"I know."

"Who knows what's happening to rescue teams as we're talking about this, _right now_. I know you don't want to use it, but.." Sam reached out and grabbed the girl's wrist, digging her nails into the soft skin. If it hurt, Valerie didn't seem to care. "We _need_ that suit. I hate to say it, but we do."

Valerie stared down at her wrist, her jaw clenched.

"I know."

"Then-"

Valerie snatched her wrist back. This time, it was Valerie that grabbed Sam's wrist and pushed the button to activate her suit, all in one fluent, but furious motion.

"I wonder how that rich bastard will feel," Valerie spat bitterly as the suit sprung to life, enveloping her head in a red and white helmet, "when I use his own suit to kick his ass."

"Probably like a rich bastard that's just gotten his ass kicked." Sam joked. The hoverboard expanded under her feet.

"Hold on."

Sam gasped as the hoverboard lifted from the ground, taking her and Valerie with it. She had to bite down another gasp as it jerked forward. "It's gotta get used to another body."

"This..hoverboard thing.." Sam said cautiously, staring down at the receding ground with growing discomfort, "it won't drop me, right?"

"No promises."

Sam gulped and wrapped her arms around Valerie's waist (humiliating, a definite yes there, but it was better than falling to her death. Not by much, though).

"How many do you think there are?" Valerie had to shout despite her strained voice as they tore against the wind, going closer and closer to the shield.

"I don't really want to look." Sam answered, hoping that Valerie couldn't hear her voice shake over the wind tearing past their ears.

"Estimate?"

Sam groaned, but dared a glance down as they broke past the shield.

"Umm," she said shakily. "A lot."

"Yeah, I _knew_ that already. Give me some news. Some numbers. I have to focus so we don't crash into anything and kill us both."

Sam gulped, partially at the thought of a fiery, explosive death, and partially at the sight down below.

"Good news, is that the ghosts are leaving the school. Bad news is that...now they're following us."

" _What_?"

The board jerked, nearly bucking Sam off. Her chipped nails dug deeper into the suit. She was going to die.

"Hold on!"

"I _am_ -"

The hoverboard roared to life just as a ghost, haunted with the red eyes of Vlad's swirling staff, raked it's clawed fingers through the air where Sam used to be. A horrible sense of weightlessness settled on Sam's body as she and Valerie flew fast enough to match Danny. (Which was _really_ fast, in case you were wondering.) Valerie shouted something, something Sam couldn't hear over the roar of the wind and possibly her own screams, and the hoverboard went straight up like it was taking them up to Heaven, then upside down, at which Sam closed her eyes and just hung on for dear life. Valerie's smug "No Promises" resounding throughout Sam's panicked brain. She desperately hoped the girl was joking...

They tore off again, so fast that Sam had to peek one eye open to make sure they hadn't left her stomach behind.

"I..going..ool" was all Sam heard of Valerie's explanation. If that's what it was at all. The wind stung Sam's eyes when she opened them to look behind her and see the sea of green and blue chasing close behind. Why did she even look?

With squinted and blurried eyes, Sam braced her face against the whipping wind and searched past Valerie's shoulder. The blurry shape of the school came into view. _"I'm going to the school?"_ Is that what Valerie had shouted, as well as she could, over her shoulder?

"Woah!" Sam's shout was stolen by the wind as a pink ectoblast shot from Valerie's hand. No, not her hand, but the gun in her hand. It was hard to tell with her eyes squinted to mere slits. Another shot and another, was that a gun coming out of the hoverboard? They swerved as a ghost shot straight up and at them. Valerie shouted something indiscernible, and then they were going up, up, up, and upside down. This time, Sam refused to close her eyes, despite the fear swelling in her chest and the wind stinging her eyes. A flash of something large and white, surrounded by green and blue. The school, the swarm...they were over the school, fighting the swarm. Alone. And _she_ wasn't even fighting. The hoverboard leveled again, giving Sam a headache as the blood rushed down from her head and into the rest of her body.

The flashes of green and blue were bigger now, closer. And she wasn't doing anything. Ghosts tumbled and fell from the sky as pink ectoblasts hit one after another. But there were still more, more, never ending. She had to do something besides cling to Valerie like a damsel in distress. She glanced down at herself, at the belt around her waist. It wasn't the most sturdy thing, but it would do. Sam held her breath as she let go of Valerie's suit with one hand, a risk in itself, and unlatched the belt. She prayed Valerie wouldn't be doing any upside down tricks in the next few seconds, or she would have to see if Valerie really meant that "no promises joke." It was one of those things she would really rather not find out.

She hated how her hands shook as she struggled to wrap the belt around Valerie's waist, and then turned to press her back as close to Valerie's as she could. They could have been conjoined twins, it was that close.

 _"Now the moment of truth."_ Sam thought with more than a little fear as she dropped her all of her grip on Valerie for long enough to buckle the belt around her own waist. And long enough to lose her balance. The scream caught in her belly as the belt pressed against her, holding her back against Valerie's. _"Thank God for elastic."_

She could still barely see, but now at least she could use her hands, and that meant she could use her wrist wray. The gun probably would have been better, but that was still latched on the far side of the belt, the part that was wrapped around Valerie's middle. So the wrist wray, for now, would have to do the trick.

She charged it up, imaging the whir of life as a green blast began to form. The second it was ready, it was gone, lodged into the belly of a ghost that got a little too close. Sam didn't take the time to watch it fall. There was a hundred more to replace it.

"Sweep down to the school. We have to clear a path!" Sam shouted as loud as she could. With her back to Valerie's, she couldn't tell if the girl heard her or not. Either she somehow managed to hear it, or she had been thinking the same thing herself, because Sam found herself flying backwards (Valerie's forward) at the school. Sam desperately wanted to close her eyes again and pretend she was on a roller coaster-a safe, controlled ride that would eventually come to a stop that didn't end in a brutal, fiery death-but she forced them open. Buildings began to sweep by in blurs. Sam only saw a flash of the street before they were plowing through the horde. Something an awful lot like slime splattered on Sam's suit as they mowed through the swarm of ghosts, pink and green ectoblasts firing all the while.

 _"Well, that's one way to clear a path."_ Sam thought, looking at the messy path they had cleared. Instantly, more ghosts filled the space they had made. Sam's stomach, which apparently wasn't left behind in the sky, jumped to her throat as they soared up and out of the crowd.

"-ker!"

" _What_?" Sam shouted in response to whatever Valerie had said. They doubled back, forming a circle in the sky before shooting back down to the crowd.

"Tuck. Er." Valerie shouted back.

"Tuck..er..Tucker!" He couldn't possibly be stuck in that horde. Could he? _"He damn better not be!"_

The conjoined duo tore through the crowd again and out the other side. Sam scanned the sea of green and blue faces as they blurred past, searching for a dark face and a red beret. Ghosts flew back from every side as ectoblasts, or the hoverboard itself, buried into their chests. But no Tucker.

It wasn't until they bursts through the other side of the mass and nearly smashed into the side of an office building (hello, fiery death) that Sam spotted that red beret. It seemed he had the same idea she had earlier. Who would have thought the roof would be a go-to? A wave of relief washed through her, more than she thought she had left, when they came to a slow. Hovering just above the building, Sam unbuckled the belt and jumped down to embrace him. Instead of doing that, she fell flat on her face. After going probably over a hundred miles per hour-Danny could go two hundred, so it must have been close to that-she had developed some weird derivative of sea legs. Flying-200mphs-legs. Yeah, that.

"Sam," Tucker gasped, and even with a facefull of concrete, Sam couldn't have been happier to hear his voice. "you oka-"

"Tuck!" she brushed right past his hand, extended to help her up from her ungraceful fall, and wrapped her arms around him. She was never one to give hugs sparingly, but shit, she had been worried about him.

"Um, sorry to interrupt, but we've still got company, Sam."

Sam tore her face from Tucker's shoulder to cast a glance over at the Red Huntress, who was busy looking behind her, and the swarm that would be on them in no time.

"We have to get you back to the school, Tuck." Sam said, already dragging him behind her.

"Hold on." Valerie interjected. "This board can only hold so many people. Even two is a stretch, but _all_ of you? No way."

Sam glanced past Tucker's shoulder to count exactly how many they had to fit on that tiny board.

"Hi, Sam." Maddie Fenton said. Sam didn't know how she could keep a smile on her face, with everything happening.

"Mrs. Fenton!"

"Uh, hey, Sam."

" _Dash_?"

"Getting closer..." Valerie warned. Sam instinctively charged up her wray, stepping in front of the few scraggling survivors that huddled behind Maddie. There was at least ten people with the rescues included, meaning the hoverboard was no longer an option.

"We managed to bring up the shield on the hospital," Maddie said. "When the ghosts started crowding the school, we directed the teams back to the hospital. We're trying to find more-"

"Guys-" Valerie warned again. Her hoverboard rose a few inches off the ground. "I can't take you all, but..." she fired her gun, and green blurs fell from the sky. "I can lead them away. They'll follow me."

"But, Val-"

"I'll be fine." She interrupted. "I know what I'm doing. And I'm sure you guys know what you're doing too."

 _"Somewhat."_ Sam thought miserably.

"Get as many people to that hospital as you can." Valerie's hoverboard lifted a few more inches off the ground. The Red Huntress turned her attention back to the now empty sky. "I think they've forgotten about me already. Guess I'll have to fix that." And then she laughed, a laugh that made Sam a little nervous, to tell the truth. "I'll cause a distraction, clear the path a little more. You guys get out of here."

"Aye, aye." Tucker said, with much less enthusiasm than he usually would have used with that answer.

"And Sam," she added, as she started off. "we make a pretty good team, huh?"

"Definitely." Sam nodded tensely. Her throat suddenly started to hurt again, and her eyes stung like they still had wind whipping past them.

"I'll meet you guys at the portal. You better survive 'till then."

"Same to you." Sam answered.

"Portal?" Tucker asked as Valerie flew off into the green sky and the mob of ghosts.

"I'll tell you on the way."

"Your lip is bleeding."

"That's great, Tuck, but that's not my biggest concern right now." She didn't bother to touch her lip to check. Mostly because she didn't want to face the fact that two of her most visible injuries at the moment, occurred from her running into a door too fast and tripping over her own fly-legs.

"We can worry about that _after_ we get off this roof, okay?" Sam rolled her eyes. "Maddie," she said, turning to the woman. "The portal-"  
"I saw it. The entrance."

"Right."  
"That's the biggest one, hovering over town hall." Maddie glanced in that direction.

"Biggest?"

"There were others, but the smaller ones have closed already. That's the last one I've seen."

Sam sighed at that. A bit of hope, just an ounce, sparked in her chest.

"So that's our goal." Sam said, heading towards the edge of the roof. She hoped there was something, maybe another dumpster, perhaps, to help her down. Otherwise it would be a long fall...

"It won't be that easy." Maddie caught up to her in two quick strides. She was still surprisingly lithe, considering her age, and all that time she had been cooped up by Vlad. "You're not going to be able to take down a portal like that with a few guns." She grimaced. "I have an idea, but it's...untested," Maddie said after some hesitation. She patted the straps that curved over her shoulders and formed into a small backpack behind her. "but I'd say it's our best shot. As of now." She looked to Sam with steady eyes, a look that made Sam wonder just what Maddie Fenton had under her sleeve. Or in her backpack, in this instance. She figured she would learn that soon enough, and she had other questions that needed to be voiced first.

"If we take out that portal," Sam teetered at the edge of the roof and looked for a way down. They had to have gotten up there somehow... "what will happen with all the ghosts that are here already?" As if in response to her question, a mass of ghosts flew overhead, leaving green streaks behind them, like they'd already claimed the world as theirs. She brought her eyes back to Maddie, waiting for an answer.

"I'm guessing we'll have to claim back our territory." Maddie sighed, her eyes lifting to the sky. The streak was already fading into the color of the dome that held their city captive like a spider under a bowl. "And I'm guessing they're not going to give it up without a fight."


	29. Chapter 29

Sam was, once again, amazed by the eldest Fenton's agility as they clambered from fire escape to fire escape, sometimes daring to go through the buildings to get to the other side. Anything felt better than travelling by ground, where ghosts were quickly filling the streets.

"We're not far now." Maddie shouted, as loud as she dared, over her shoulder to the team following. "A few more buildings and we'll be there."

"What...do you mean...by a few?" Tucker panted. Sam couldn't blame him. She hastily wiped the sweat from her brow, remembering Maddie saying nearly the same thing three buildings ago. Amity was not a very big or complex city, but when alley ways and fire escapes were the only possible methods of travel, it seemed the size of New York.

Instead of answering, Maddie crouched on top of the railing of the fire escape and grabbed the ledge of the roof. She pulled herself up and stuck her hand down for the next poor soul. That poor soul happened to be Sam, who accepted the hand readily. She was far beyond pride now.

Sam thrashed her way up to the roof and held her hand out for Tucker, who's face was as sheen with sweat as she imagined her own was. At least she wasn't the only one getting her ass kicked by this cross-city adventure.

"There it is." Maddie muttered, staring at the swirling vortex in the sky. The closer they got, the less Sam liked the look of it-she'd hated the look of it when she was still half-an-Amity away. And she had a feeling they were going to have to get a lot closer if they wanted to do anything about it. The vortex pulsed, releasing another wave of dead into the world of the living.

"How are we supposed to destroy that thing?" Tucker voiced the question in all of their heads, aside from Maddie's.

"With the gauntlets."

"The whats?"

Maddie tore her eyes from the swirling, pulsing green and swung her backpack down from her shoulders. She dropped it to the ground and knelt by it, unzipping the last and largest pocket.

"The gauntlets. It's something Ja-" Maddie stuttered. She gulped, struggling to keep her hands steady as she unzipped the pocket of her backpack. "something Jack and I were working on before..." she gave up on the zipper, curling her hands into a fist. Sam cupped Maddie's trembling hands in her own. Maddie's eyes fell to the ground as a bead of sweat, or more likely, a tear trailed down her cheek.

"Mrs. Fenton-" Sam whispered gently. Maddie squeezed her hand, two quick and strong compressions, like a heartbeat. Then she let go and finished unzipping the pocket. It mostly unzipped on its own, the pressure of the large load forcing it open.

"It can grab ecto energy, like..." she held them up, two shiny, metal gloves that looked like something an old, ghostly knight would put on. "like the portal." Her eyes strayed to the thing above their heads. "It absorbs energy, amplifies it even, so that whoever put these on could shoot ecto energy from the gauntlet. And if that amplified energy could be forced back into the portal, it could revert the course of the ecto waves..."

"Making the portal collapse in on itself." Sam finished. A tight grin twitched at the corners of Maddie's cracked lips. "But how are we going to get up there?" Sam's eyes burned as she stared at the vortex, hovering high above the town. She was pretty good at the high jump in track and field, but it would take a lot more than that. They needed someone that could fly.

"This is where it's going to get tough." Maddie muttered. Her eyes, crinkled with thought, watched the portal and it's steady, pulsating beat.

"I thought it was already tough." Tucker grumbled. Sam, for the first time in a while, laughed.

"Tough _er_." She corrected. She felt her wrist wray, just for the assurance that it was still there. Though the sting of the raw skin underneath it was assurance enough. "We'll need Valerie." Tucker's eyebrows shot to the heavens. Bet he'd never thought he would hear anything like that come out of Sam's mouth.

"With her suit, she can fly. And with Danny...out of the picture, she's the best thing we've got."

"I'll get the message to Valerie." Tucker said, touching his finger to the Fenton Phone in his ear.

"Good." Maddie said, clearing her throat and turning back to them. The glow of the portal turned the wet trails on her cheeks into green streams, tiny rivers of the softest jade. "Tell Valerie to hurry. The longer that portal is up, the less chance there is of Amity surviving this."

Sam's gaze lingered on the portal, feeling the weight of its presence more than ever. The burn of smoke and fire filled her nostrils, howls and screams echoed in her ears. Those green swirls, as terrible a sight it was, had to be better than looking down and seeing what her city had become. She closed her eyes and wondered if, by the time they tore down that portal, there would be anything left of Amity to save.

* * *

It was all going well, and then it wasn't.

Perched at a broken window eight stories high, Sam watched with a racing heart as Valerie swooped and swerved towards that glowing green vortex in the sky. A seemingly ever present swarm trailed behind her, but none of them dared get too close. Except that one.

A little blue one, fast as all hell, grasped at Valerie's heels, and missed. Sam pulled the trigger of her gun, and it didn't get another chance. She got two more shots in, and two more ghosts fell from the swarm with fading colors.

"I'm moving up. Tuck, are you in place?" Sam whispered into her Fenton phone.

"Just made it." A flash of light, from a four story window, pummeled an offending ghost in the chest.

"Nice shot."

"Thanks."

Sam dropped her hand from her ear and moved, stepping over pieces of shattered glass as she made her way through the ravaged apartment. She blended into the shadows, thankful for some kind of cover to hide her as she hurried past the living room of the apartment.

"Window, window.." Sam whispered to herself. She jumped over a recliner chair, shredding and tipped on it's side. "That'll do." Something had torn, or by the signature scorch marks of an ectoblast, burned a hole in the wall big enough for her gun to fit through. She knelt to it and used the butt of her gun to widen the hole, just enough for her eyes to see through it as well.

"Okay," she said, touching her earpiece. She narrowed her eye and aimed. "I'm good." Her finger pulled the trigger. Another one down.

"Cool." Tucker responded. "I'm set. How are you, Mrs. Fenton?"

"I'm fine where I am." Maddie's voice, somehow soft and strong at the same time, filled Sam's earpiece. "She hasn't passed me yet."

Sam shifted into a squat and pulled the trigger-once, twice-as two more shots exploded from the window opposite, and a little to the right, of her, and one from an apartment up ahead. Sam only saw color falling from the sky in blues and greens. Valerie soared ahead.

" _She's almost there."_ Sam shifted again and peeked through her sniper hole. Valerie was close. Really close. Silver gloves glinted on the Red Huntress' hands. Gauntlets.

"I'm moving." Sam gasped at Tucker's voice. "Sam, cover me."

"Got it." Sam responded. Her eyes narrowed over the barrel of the gun again. One shot, the closest one to Valerie fell. Second shot, a poor soul at the end of the group tumbled down. The third shot wasn't hers. A specter from the center of the swarm fell.

"I'm...there." Tucker panted. He must have been running. "Sixth floor." A shot burst from somewhere, Sam couldn't pinpoint exactly where, in the sixth floor opposing her.

"Good one." Sam responded, watching the impact of the ectoblast dead center on a ghost's chest. "I'm-"

An eye met Sam's through her sniper hole. Glowing, red, and very angry.

"Shit!" Sam hissed automatically, dropping her gun. She fell on her butt as the eye vanished, replaced by a sharp-nailed hand phasing through the wall.

"Sam!" Tucker wailed in her ear.

"Sam?" Mrs. Fenton cried.

"Shit!" Sam cried again. She scrambled for her gun as the arm, and the body it was attached to, materialized through an ectoplasm-splattered wall and clawed for her face. "It's fine. Ke-"

She pulled the trigger just as the face emerged, narrow red eyes and a gaping, fanged mouth.

"Sam!"

The shot made contact, and the face was no longer. Sam fell back on her rear, and the gun clattered to the floor.

"SAM?"

"Keep shooting. I-it's fine. I'm fine." She said hoarsely. "I'm fine." She said again, to herself this time. "I'm fine." She rose shakily to her knees, slipped in a puddle of ectoplasm, and fell back to her rear. Her shoulders shuddered as she took a deep breath. "I'm moving up."

"What happened?" Maddie.

"I got spotted." Sam gulped at the puddle of oozing ectoplasm she had slipped in. The same ectoplasm that was now smeared all over her. "I took care of it. How's Valerie?"

"She's...shit, where is she?"

The phone went silent, aside from Tucker's quick breaths and inaudible mumbling.

"What do you mean 'where is she?'" Sam shrieked. She fell back to her knees, pressing her face against the sniper hole. Dust and bits of wall paper clung to her lashes. She blinked away what she could, and ignored the little fragments speckling the sight before her. A horrible sight already. Valerie, gripping the rim of the portal with one silver-clad hand, the other hand fervently blasting ectoblasts at the ghosts clinging to her. The whole swarm, it seems, tore at her suit, clung to her ankles, as she fought them off best she could with one hand.

"She's at the portal!" Sam shouted into the Fenton Phone. She was on her feet a second later, if that, and was already clambering through the wrecked apartment by the time Tucker's cursed reply sounded through her earpiece.

"I see her." Maddie's voice crackled to life.

"I can't get a good shot from where I am." Sam tripped over a broken plate, a forgotten meal still smeared over its porcelain surface, and smacked into the wall. Dust rained on her hair from the weakened ceiling above. A picture fell from the wall and shattered into a hundred shards of glinting glass. "Ow! Damn it." Sam cursed. She rubbed her shoulder where she had collided with the wall (yet another self-inflicted injury), but didn't slow. If there was a living room, there had to be a bedroom, too, and bedrooms always have windows. Right?

"-help!" Sam's earpiece chirped. Her stomach clenched at that voice.

"Valerie?"

" _Someone_ shoot these assholes!" Valerie grunted, and a faint cry was heard through the phone. A ghostly cry.

"I'm trying!" Tucker

"Well try-Hey!" Sam winced and covered her ear as Valerie screamed. "Don't shoot me, idiot!"

"Sorry!"

A door, barely clinging to its hinges stood in between Sam and what she hoped was a bedroom, or at least some room with windows. Any other person probably would have stopped when they heard the wails echoing from it, but not Sam. She charged towards it, into it, through it, and-

"Woah." Sam screeched to a halt so fast, the rubber of her boots were probably disintegrated. She'd asked for a window, and gotten a lot more than that. There might have been a window at some point, if there had ever been a wall between the apartment and the eight story drop back to the city. But at that point, there was not. Sam took a gulp of cold, dust filled air as she stared out into the city. She inched forward, praying that the floor wouldn't give in like the wall, and a good part of the ceiling, had. The building groaned with her first step, creaked with her second, but didn't collapse. At least she had one thing to be thankful for.

Her feet kicked up roof fragments as she hurried as fast as she dared towards the edge of the apartment, the fine line between some degree of safety and a fatal drop. She knelt, gulped a breath of fresh air, and raised her gun to her eye. Valerie and her leeches were a toy car compared to the vortex she clung to. Sam watched Valerie thrash against the ghosts holding her heels over the barrel of her gun. She held her breath until she couldn't anymore. The shot rang as the air fled from her lungs. A colored splotch fell from the sky.

"Hang in there, Valerie." Maddie urged.

"I'm...trying.." Came Valerie's strained response. Sam watched her kick at her captors, refusing to release her hold on the portal. She'd gotten that far, and Sam doubted she would let go now. Sam fired a few more shots. And then a few more. She didn't bother trying to stay undetected. That hadn't worked too well before, and she didn't have any cover if she wanted to. There was nothing but open air between her, Valerie, the portal, and a brainwashed swarm of ghosts.

"Valerie, are the gauntlets working?" Maddie again. Bright green ectoblasts came from her direction. Each one found their target with deadly accuracy.

"I, um, I think so." Valerie grunted, and another clinging ghost fell.

"Are they firing?"

"Yeah, but.. but not much. The blasts aren't very strong."

Maddie was quiet.

"How long do I have to stay here until it powers up?" For the first time, Sam thought she heard something like desperation in Valerie's voice. It was several long, silent seconds before Maddie answered.

"I don't know."

"There's only a few left." Tucker added. "Valerie, can you hang on for that much longer?"

"That….better not.. be doubt I hear in your voice, Foley." Valerie panted

A grin twitched at Sam's lips.

"'Course not."

"Sam, where are you?" Maddie asked. Sam never lowered her gun as she responded.

"Fifth floor." She answered, her finger pulling the trigger at will. "The building with half the side blown off."

"Are there any more coming?"

Sam lowered her gun. For the sake of having both hands, she left it on the partially crumbled floor and inched even closer to the edge. On her hands and knees, she peeked her head into open air. Wind ripped at her hair, pulling silky strands of black from her ponytail.

"Not that I can see." Sam said into her Fenton phone. "Whatever is guarding the portal is currently clinging to Valerie's legs."

"That's good." Maddie sighed.

"Excuse me?" Valerie nearly shrieked.

"Stay still, Miss Gray. As still as you can." Maddie told her. "There's only a few more on your tail." Another went down as she spoke. "Get rid of these, and we're clear to g-"

The portal pulsed as if it was laughing at Maddie's very words, at their hope. It trembled and with a scream, Valerie lost her hold. She fell as the portal burst.

An army poured from it, enough to blot the entire portal out of sight. The three fighters perched high in the wreckage could only watch in horrible fascination as the sky filled with the multitude of Vlad's army. Sam reached for her gun, but didn't dare raise it. What good would one shot to against ten thousand? Her heart settled like a stone in her stomach. More and more, they poured from the portal until one last figure made its way through, a glowing, red staff poised overhead. Vlad. _Plasmius._

"Bastard." Sam hissed through gritted teeth. Her jaws ached with fury. There he was. Floating like a king, head tilted back in horrid laughter as his own city fell to the claws of his ghost army.

" _Bastard!_ " Sam screamed. The fervent protests of Maddie and Tucker filled her ears, but she didn't hear them. She was already on her feet, gun clutched in her white knuckled hands. She pulled the trigger.

Whether he heard her scream, or felt the shot coming at him, Vlad saw it coming. The shot bounced uselessly off a pink shield he'd formed in the air. It wasn't until Sam felt his cold eyes fall on her that she realized what she'd done. She'd given herself away.

He moved the staff with a flourish of red, and suddenly, ten thousand red eyes were trained on her. Uh oh.

"Sam!" Tucker's voice screamed in her ear. "RUN!"

She didn't need to be told twice. Sam turned her back and ran. She could hear them, a thousand shrieking screams, following behind her as she tore through the apartment. She didn't have much time, that was clear enough. Everything that stood in her way, the tipped sofa, walls, doors, chairs, were nothing to them. But to her, they were the obstacles between life and a very painful death at the claws of the already dead.

"Sam!" Now it was Maddie screaming, pleading her name. "Get to the hospital! Find shelter!"

Sam didn't think she had that long. She clutched her gun to her chest, not that it would do her much good. Something yanked at her hair. Something else tore at the back of her suit. She was dead. _So_ dead.

"Valerie!" Sam begged for Valerie to answer. For Valerie's sake and her own.

"Sam? What's happening?" Sam nearly cried in relief.

"Never.." she gulped for a breath of air. She was already getting tired. "mind that. I..need help."

Laughter, screeching, wailing laughter filled her ears. It was close behind. She dared a quick glance over her shoulder. Her eyes met with vivid scarlet, no more than a few feet from her own. So they were _really_ close.

"-at?"

"Val...if I jump..." she gulped, "can you catch me?"

" _What_?"

Her feet pounded down the fifth floor lobby, breath hoarse with exhaustion.

"There's a..window...I can..."

"Sam, are you crazy?"

"I'm coming, Sam!" Tucker's trembling voice flooded into her ears.

"NO!" she shouted, the demand coming out more as a croak. "Stay out of this, Tucker!" She warned, rounding the corner. The window was gone, and once again, so was the wall. A gnarled hand snatched a handful of her hair, throwing her to the ground. A scream burned in Sam's throat. The panicked voices of her friends shouted her name. Sam grappled for her gun and shot whatever she could. A hiss followed the shot, and Sam was back on her feet again, tripping, running, towards that gaping hole where a wall used to be.

"Val...the building..with the sid-"

"I see it. Half the building is gone."

"I'm-" a croaking cough filled Sam's throat. What was left of her voice faltered. It didn't matter. She had about thirty yards, and then a free fall. A dead end drop to, well..probably death. " _Please, Valerie!"_

Howls chased behind her, claws ripping at her back. They were toying with her now, she was sure of it. She was doomed, and they knew it as well as she did.

"Get _off!"_ Valerie shouted. "Sam, don't jump. I can't..." her voice was drowned out static and howls. "I'm...Sam. I...stuck!"

"What?" Sam tried to ask, but only a weak croak came from her cracked throat. _Don't jump_. She had made that much out. But...

Hands grabbed her by the neck, and nails dug into her back. Her mouth opened in a scream, but nothing came out. What breath she still had escaped from her lungs in a huff as the hands threw her against the wall. Her head cracked against the wall and she saw stars.

"Sam!" She didn't know whose voice it was. Everything seemed to blend together. Screaming and cackling, cheers of jubilation, Maddie's voice shouting for her son.

" _Danny..."_ Sam thought as she struggled to her knees. Red trickled into her eyes, smearing her world with a scarlet haze. " _I'm sorry, Danny."_

She swore she could hear his voice right then. She heard Maddie crying, or laughing. Danny's name again. Tucker shouting something she couldn't discern. Pain seared through her as nails raked down her back. She heard a scream, but wasn't sure if it was her own or the voices she was hearing in her head. Her eyes clouded with blood, she scrambled for her gun. She was finished, probably, but she could at least take a few more down with her.

The army laughed as Sam struggled to her knees, then to her feet. She shot blindly. She couldn't see what hit her, but she sure as hell felt it. The impact came from the side of her head, where the Fenton phone was still chirping in her ear.

"SAM-"

Was the last thing she heard before the Fenton phone was crushed by the impact, crumpling into pieces. She couldn't tell whose voice it was, but she had a horrible feeling it was going to be the last one she'd ever hear. The burn filled her stomach, and she smelled the odor of burning flesh as she soared through the air. An ectoblast, most likely, had buried itself in her stomach and sent her flying. Sam hit the ground and rolled. She gasped for breath. Her hands searched the floor for her gun. A gun that had been left behind when she'd been launched a dozen feet down the lobby. Fresh air filled her lungs, and, wiping the blood from her eyes, Sam cracked them open to see the open air in front of her. Shrieks and ghostly laughter behind her, certain death there, and an eight story drop in front of her. Certain death there, too. But if she was going to die, she was going to die on her own terms. She touched her finger to her ear, only to remember that her Fenton phone was in pieces. Taking a deep breath, and possibly her last, she struggled to her knees, and then to her feet. She could feel the ghosts stirring behind her, closing in on her once again. Bloody tears streamed down her face as she took a running start. She stared at the sky, never looking down and never giving herself a chance to reconsider. She was going to jump, and she was going to die, but it was on her own terms. Her last hope was that Valerie would be there to catch her.


	30. Chapter 30

Sam would have liked to say she handled it like a champ. That she accepted her fate with stoic expression and gothic indifference. But when one is falling eight stories to their inevitable death, gothic indifference and stoic heroism really flies out the window. She was sure she was screaming, but the air rushing past her carried the sound far away before it could reach her own ears. Her lungs begged for a breath that soared past her. Gray and green, destruction and death, all blurred together in her wet eyes. Fear rose from her stomach like bile when her eyes saw the mass of concrete that could only be the ground. She closed her eyes with much effort, not wanting to see it when she made contact. Her head felt faint with lack of oxygen. She considered it a mercy that her mind slipped into darkness before she hit the ground.

* * *

Private Darrel of the United States Marine Corps hadn't believed in ghosts until yesterday, when a ghost with glowing green eyes broke into the white house on live television. He would call it a redefining moment in his life, and only first of that week. He would consider the second redefining moment of his life to be when his division was called up by the president to work with this previously mentioned ghost. Of all the Marine Divisions, it had to be his.

Private Darrel flexed his gloved fingers over the gun-an ectogun, apararently-and narrowed his eyes at the ghost boy. He still couldn't quite believe it. He was following a ghost, a _kid_ ghost into battle. Darrel focused on the kid, rather him than the soupy swirls of green and purple around him. He gulped as a hovering door swung open, giving just a glimpse of the dark world inside.

 _"_ _The Ghost Zone."_ he thought, forcing his face to remain stoic, even though he was more than a little afraid of what was behind that door. Whatever it was, it had been there long before him, and would be there long after him.

"Where are we going?" Johnny, probably Darrel's closest friend in his division, whispered to him.

"Wish I knew. This place freaks me out." Darrel shuddered as a shadow darted across his line of vision.

"Me too." Johnny gripped his gun tighter to his chest. "And to think, we never knew this place even existed. Has AmityPark always be-"

"I don't know." Darrel cut him off. "I don't do all this ghost bullshit. The only haunting I've been to is the Whaley house, and that's all tourist crap."

"Oh."

The rope connected to Darrel's middle went slack as the group ahead of him stopped. Johnny tugged at the rope around his waist, the only thing keeping him from floating off into Nowhere, Ghost ZoneVille, and inquired not-so-politely what the hold up was. He received an even less polite answer.

"The kid is stopped." Darrel told him, being a head and a half taller than Johnny and most of the division. He was just tall enough to see over their heads and watch the white haired ghost boy stare down at a map and consult with some fiendish looking oaf that had nearly made Darrel shit his pants. It's not something he would ever admit, not even to Johnny, but that abominable snowman had taken every once of bravery and military training he had not to scream.

"What's he doing?" Johnny asked, struggling to see over the heads of his comrades.

"Talking with the yetti."

"Frostbite?"

"Sure." Darrel didn't really care what its name was. Frostbite seemed fitting as all hell, though. "Looking at a map."

"Does this kid know where he's going?"  
"More than we do." Darrel grumbled, letting his eyes graze over the shadowed green landscape of the Ghost Zone. He liked the site even less than the ghost kid. His eyes settled back on the white haired boy, Danny Phantom, apparently, (what kind of name is that?) and he sighed. "I hope."

The yetti nodded to the kid, and to Darrel's amazement, lowered his head in a way that could only be a bow. Darrel gaped. A monster, a ghost... _creature_ would bow to a kid? Who exactly was this kid?

"What's going on?"

Darrel ignored him, simply because he didn't know what was going on either. He hadn't known since he and his division had been called up, thanks to his division leader being buddy buddy with the president and more than happy to volunteer. Darrel had been told to don a stretchy white jumpsuit and ectoweapons that he hadn't known existed until then. They weren't much different from the weapons he had been trained with. The division only had a few minutes to practice with them before the sky above them ripped into a seam of green. That green had been the only thing Darrel had seen for a very long time now, and by God he was tired of it.

"What're we waiting for?"

"I don't know!" Darrel growled. His patience was wearing thin. It wasn't Johnny's fault in the least, but the ghosts, the weird Phantom with green eyes, the Ghost Zone, the Abominable Snowman that terrified him more than Darrel wanted to admit-it was enough to set even a passive man's nerves on edge. And Darrel was never known to be a very passive man.

Darrel's eyes fell on the boy-Danny Phantom- again as the small army of marines and yeti-like ghosts dropped their muttered chatter and settled into a hush. The boy was talking. Darrel leaned closer, pushing his fellow marines out of the way. He had to know what the kid was saying. But why? A spark of confused anger came to life in his stomach. He didn't know this kid. He hadn't faced battle with him. He didn't know the least thing about this Danny Phantom, so why should he care? But he did. The anger burned in his stomach, but he still pushed forward. Something about the kid's eyes, a glittering green that seemed to meet every eye in the crowd, including Darrel's. He radiated power, a kind of power that was captivating and horrifying. The kid's voice rose above the eery silence of the Ghost Zone, and Darrel couldn't stop himself from listening to every word.

"The portal will be opening here in just a few minutes." The hushed silence was only disturbed by the shuffling of a few feet, the watchful eyes of an army all on the boy. "I can't say I know your lives, but I'm pretty sure this fight isn't going to be like any you've ever fought before. I can guess most of you didn't belief in ghosts until yesterday." Mutters of agreement sounded throughout the crowd, one of those mutters coming from Darrel's own mouth. "Our goal is to get as many civilians to safety as we can. There should be safety zones already set up within the city. Find buildings with shield domes, like the one holding Amity under a bowl. That dome," the ghost boy said, his eyes flickering to the brightest green Darrel had ever seen, "I'll take care of that."

The sooner he did, the better. There were troops waiting on the other side, waiting for the dome to come down. And once it did...a grin tugged at the corner of Darrel's chapped lips. The grin quickly fell in replace of a gasp, thankfully too soft for any of his brothers to hear it. That same bright green that sparked in the ghost boy's eyes lit up all their faces as another portal, much like the one that had let them into the Ghost Zone, opened like a menacing yawn. Darrel felt Johnny shift on his feet.

The ghost boy turned to watch it. His small figure was outlined in green. Without another word, he flew through it. Darrel shook his head, wondering where the hell this kid got his courage. Maybe it was a ghost thing. For all he knew, this kid used huge, power-rippling portals like he used his Ford F150. The Yetis followed after him with a war cry, and the men after that, a cry of their own pouring from their lips. Darrel followed the stream, his heart racing in anticipation. He squeezed his eyes shut as his word erupted into green. And then, he felt that horrible weightless feeling of falling through dead air.

Darrel acted on instinct, his mind recalling the hours and hours of training he had been put through. It wasn't the first time he'd been dropped into open air, though every other time he had been dropped out of an airplane, and he had known exactly what waited for him outside of that airplane. Couldn't the ghost kid have chosen a portal that wasn't in the middle of the sky?

Darrel let out a rush of pinned up breath that was quickly taken away by the rushing air as he pulled the string on his parachute. It yanked him back as it caught the wind. High above the city, he could see everything. The destruction was not new to him. The collapsed buildings, the plumes of thick black smoke rising through the air, the overturned cars and the screams, none of that was new. The lithe green and blue, purple and black bodies flying through the air, though-that was an entirely new experience. Their howls sent chills racing down his spine.

He was surrounding by buildings now, his slow descent sending him in the middle of the town. His eyes fell on an apartment building, almost half of it crumbled to ash that lay around its base in ruins. That, as horrible as it was, was not what made his heart stop, his eyes bulge out of his head, panic flood his mind. She couldn't be more than a teenager. What was she _doing?_

"Hey!" he screamed at her. She didn't seem to hear him. His voice was caught in the wind and taken far away. "Stop!"

She didn't stop. She didn't even slow. The girl with black hair framing her delicately pale face sprinted towards the crumbling edge of the apartments, and jumped. Darrel could only watch as she fell, her black hair twirling in dark strands around her head. She was falling, flailing, and there was nothing he could do to save her. The destruction, the fires, the darting, devilish spirits that he hadn't believed in until yesterday, didn't even come close to the horror the girl's falling body evoked in him. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. He could only watch as her body, now only a few stories from the unforgiving ground, went limp. Darrel wasn't one to talk to God, but at that moment, he thanked God that she had lost consciousness before she hit.

And then, Darrel witnessed God's second great mercy of the day. The girl's limp body was only two stories away from a wretched end when she tumbled into the outstretched arms of the ghost kid with shocking green eyes. It happened in less than a second, giving Darrel's wide eyes only enough time to register a blur of black and silver darting through the air, sweeping down to catch the girl before it was back up again, her still body draped over his trembling hands. He saw the boy's face staring down at her, eyes flooded with fear and lips shouting. The ghost boy's words were stolen by the wind rushing past Darrel's ears as his boots thudded to the ground. Something in the boy's wide green eyes told Darrel that this falling girl meant a whole lot to him.

Johnny landed beside Darrel, stumbling over a piece of crumbled brick before regaining his composure.

"Did you see that?" His voice was an incredulous whisper. Darrel didn't answer. His throat felt caked with ash, though he hadn't been there nearly long enough to breathe that much in. He stared at the sky and the boy floating in it. "He swooped that girl right out of the damn sky."

Darrel wanted to watch him, to see what he would do with the girl he clutched so dearly in his arms, but he didn't have the chance. The ghosts were on them in mere seconds, swarming around him and Johnny like ants. Johnny fired the first shot. Darrel's shot was only have a second later. Ectoplasts and swarming figures blocked the ghost boy out from sight. Wearing a snarl on his lips, Darrel bared his gun. He was a marine. He didn't watch, he fought. And he would never be caught watching from the sidelines again.

* * *

Sam knew she wasn't in Heaven, because she was pretty sure that the sound track of Heaven wouldn't be screaming bloody murder and wracking sobs. Sam's eyes ached as she cracked them open. For the second time in the past month, her blurry eyes cleared to show a hospital room, with her in the bed. Only this time, Tucker wasn't there, dead asleep in the bedside chair.

"I know it hurts, honey, but please stay still." the panicked voice of a mother brought Sam's eyes to her. She was huddled on the ground, the head of a screaming child in her lap. "I know." The mother crooned, her thin arms trembling as she held her daughter's head still. "It'll be alright. I'm here. I'm here now."

" _Mommy!"_ the little girl screamed, her eyes and nose scrunched up in agony.

"She has to stay still, or the bone won't set right." Sam's eyes fell to the nurse. She was kneeling on the floor at the girl's feet. One of her legs was twisted in a way that made Sam's stomach lift and flop over. The girl screamed again and the nurse threw her body over the girl's bad leg, preventing her from writhing and damaging it even more. The ache coursing throughout Sam's body disappeared. She swung on heavily leg over the bed, and then the other.

"Let m-" Sam croaked. The rest of her sentence never made it past her lips. She stood and immediately crumbled. Her legs felt like jelly, her blood like honey. Sam tried once again to stand, a scarlet blush now coloring her cheeks. The nurse and the others hadn't even noticed her. She walked towards them slowly with shaking legs and hands and...shaking everything. She felt like a trembling mess.

"Let me help." Sam tugged on her voice, hidden somewhere deep inside her throat. It sounded and felt like each word was wrapped in several layers of sand paper. The croak, weak as it was, caught the nurses' eye.

"Miss Sam." the nurse gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. Sam wondered how the nurse knew her name. She had never met this woman in her life, as far as she could remember.

"I'll hold her still." Sam muttered. "You fix the leg."

Sam knelt on the floor and grabbed hold of the child's squirming body before the nurse could decide against it. Sam couldn't remember why or how she was in the hospital, but she might as well be some help if she was there. She couldn't sit in bed while a child was screaming in agony.

"Thank you." The nurse said quietly. Her eyes fell back to the child in their arms. Sam closed her eyes, wishing she could cover her ears as the girl shrieked louder than ever before. If her battered hands weren't being used to hold the child still, she would have covered her ears.

"Does she not have any pain reliever for this?" Sam's strained voice crackled over the screaming.

"We already gave her as much as we could." The nurses' eyes shone. Her lips trembled. "The hospital is over flowing." Sam felt her stomach turn over again, for different reasons.

"And the supplies?"

The nurse glanced at her with shining eyes that gave Sam exactly the answer she didn't want to hear. They both fell silent and turned their eyes back to the sobbing little girl. Her leg was set, bloody and terrible bruised, but at least it was facing the right way. Sam felt sick looking at the mottled skin. She forced her eyes away.

"Thank you." the mother muttered, her voice thick with a sob. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, mingling with the matted strands of hair that had once been blonde. Now the strands were plastered to her cheeks, blackened by ash or brown with blood.

"Give her my bed." Sam said quickly. Her head swirled with guilt. Why was she sleeping peacefully in a bed, while the poor little girl had to be pieced back together on the cold floor? "Please." Sam demanded. Her voice grew stronger with the word. The mother nodded wordlessly. It took the nurse and the mother's combined efforts to carry the child to the bed.

"What am I doing here?" Sam asked the nurse as the mother tended to her crying child. Sam turned her back on the sight, feeling like her eyes were intruding on a sacred moment between a mother and her little girl. "And why was I on the bed? She should have had the bed."

"I'm sorry." The nurse said. "We did as he asked us." the nurses' pale skin, drawn with exhaustion, blushed a soft pink. "None of us were in any state to argue with him."

Sam sat down, feeling exhaustion flood her bones. The nurse sat with her. By the purple skin under her eyes, swollen eyelids and shaking hands, Sam wondered when was the last time the nurse had taken a break, or even sat down. She didn't ask. The sight of crumbling buildings clouded Sam's eyes, the burn of smoke in her nostrils and screams in her ears. They were all exhausted.

"Who's him?" Sam folded her hands to keep them from trembling.

"Him?" The nurse's eyebrows rose to her hair line. "Phantom."

"Danny?" The name fell from Sam's lips before she could stop it. She cleared her throat. "I-I mean, Phantom? Like, the Phantom?"

"You know him?" the nurse asked. Sam frowned.

"Who doesn't? He's.." Sam fought against the gentle smile tugging at her lips. Now was not a time to be smiling. "he's famous."

"Well, yeah." the nurse said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which, it kind of was. "I mean do you _know_ him?" The nurse leaned in closer, like they were sharing a secret. Sam studied the young features of her face, wondering how someone so young looking could already be a qualified nurse. Then again, she might not be. With a hospital over flowing, anyone with some mark of hospital experience was bound to be thrown a uniform and gloves, and told to get to work. "You said his name. _Danny._ " Sam bit her lip. Blood blossomed on her bottom lip from even the slightest touch of her teeth. Sam cursed. She must be in worse shape than she thought. "And the way he looked at you," the nurse shrugged, feigning indifference, but her eyes lingered on Sam with undisguised curiosity. "he didn't look at you like a stranger. And he knew your name."

Sam shrugged, and the nurse sighed.

"Anyway," she said disappointedly. "Thank you for helping me with.." a gulp bobbed in the young nurses' throat as she pointed her chin towards the bed. Sam cast a glance at the mother leaning over it, tears flowing openly down her cheeks. "We have more than we can handle. If this doesn't clear up soon..." the same silent warning filled the nurses' eyes again. Fear clouded over the sparkle. Sam nodded, her lips pulled tight.

"I need my weapons. I won't be much use out there without them." Sam stared down at the hospital gown covering her body. "And my suit. I'm guessing you-"  
"You can't go back out there." The nurse rose to her feet, only to kneel back down a second later. Exhaustion had made her knees wobbly. "It's a mad house, and you're-"

"I'm fine." Sam cut her off. "I need to be out there. My friends are out there."

"Mine are too." the nurses' quiet voice cut through Sam's panic. "But you're in no shape to go out right now." Her tired lips curved into a small smile. "He told me you would do this." Sam felt a hot blush return to her cheeks. "He also told me not to let you go, no matter how much you.." the nurse covered her mouth, eyes darting quickly to the sleeping child and back to Sam. "bitched." Sam cursed. Danny knew her better than he should.

"He left something for you." the nurse rose shakily and pulled open the drawer of the bedside table. "Asked me to give it to you when you woke up." Sam stared at her closed fist cautiously. The nurse cast a cautious glance to the mother and her child, who paid them no attention. The nurse opened her fist in Sam's hand and dropped the contents.

"A Fenton phone." She whispered, turning the familiar device over in her hand. She touched her ear, remembering what had happened to the first one. Sam stomach dropped as it all rushed back to her. She remebered Vlad and she remembered the ghosts. Lastly, she remembered jumping from one of the highest buildings in Amity Park. She didn't, however, remember hitting the ground. Her body ached as she studied her own hands for the first time since she had awaken. They were mottled with bruises and scrapes. She didn't want to know what the rest of her looked like.

"There's a note there too." The nurse said. Sam tore her eyes from her hands and focused on what was in them. There was a note, a small piece of scrap paper. There were hastily and messily written words on it, the kind of writing that looked like a five year old had done it. She recognized it immediately as Danny's.

"Sam,

I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. But I'm here now, and I've got some help. I don't know what happened to you, but I'm going to want to hear all of it later. Sorry I can't be there when you wake up, but I won't be far. Love, Danny"

Her eyes scanned the page hungrily, running over every word several times before she folded the note in her hand. He'd been there. He'd...saved her? It must have been him. Who else could have pulled her from a downward plummet off a blown up apartment? A pang of regret filled her. She'd missed him since the moment he was gone, and the first chance she had to see him again, she was dead asleep. She wondered if he felt the same disappointment she did.

"Um, thank you." Sam eyes flickered back to the nurse, who was still watching her with some mix of amazement and curiosity glittering in her tired eyes.

"Sure thing."

The nurse waited for a moment, as if expected Sam to say more. When she didn't, the nurse smiled weakly and took her leave, off to help some other victim of destruction. It only occurred to Sam after the woman left that Sam had never gotten her name.

Sam raised the Fenton phone to her ear and dialed in, her fingers shaking as she crossed to the window.

"Just hang on Danny." Tucker's voice spoke through the phone. "You're almost there."

"I'm... _trying_." Sam's heart leaped at Danny's voice, strained and tired, but there. _Alive_.

"How...are you..holding up?" Maddie. The sound of shrieks and gun fire carried over her voice.

"Danny?" Sam's lips moved without thought. "Danny? Tucker? What's happening?"  
"Sam?" The three voices sounded at once

"Thank God." Maddie's motherly tone poured through the phone. "You had us really worried, Sam."

"Sam?" That had to be Valerie. "You're alive."

"Don't sound too happy." Sam griped. She pulled the heavy curtains away from the window and dared look at the view outside. Gray rubble. Black smoke. Green and black blood everywhere. "Where are you guys?" Sam pressed her face against the window, searching for them, despite the chances of her spotted them in the middle of all the chaos was little to none.

"The portal." Tucker answered. "Danny's tearing it down."

"Danny's doing what?"

"Trying..." Danny's voice, dripping with exhaustion, came through. " _Trying_ to tear down the portal."

"Just a few seconds more, Danny. The gauntlets need to charge, and once they do-"

"I know." Danny breathed raggedly. Sam's eyes found the portal high in the sky, and the tiny, insignificant-looking black dot in front of it. Danny.

"Holy shit." Sam muttered. "I see you. I-I'm coming, guys."

"No." Danny hissed. She could practically see the strain on his face. "Sam, stay there. You're not in any condition to be out here right now." Her cheeks flushed red at his words. Did he really expect her to stay there while everyone else was out there, fighting for their city? For their lives? Shame filled her cheeks. Did he really think so low of her?

"You've gotta be joking, Danny." She said darkly. Her bruised fingers curled into a fist. "Nurse!" she called. She lurched for the button on the bed that would call the nurse to her.

"Sam-" Danny warned, but his voice was cut off by a gasp.

"Be careful, Danny." Sam heard real fear in Maddie Fenton's voice. "Those gauntlets are charging off your own energy. If you try it all at once, you'll drain yourself. You need to-"

"I know." He said sharply. "We don't..exactly have time to be..dragging our feet."  
"Who called?"

Sam whirled from the window, forcing herself to tear her eyes from Danny's small, hunched figure in the distance, and speak to the nurse.

"Please get me my suit. And my weapons."

The nurse hesitated.

"But Phantom-"

"I know what Phantom said. I'm talking to him right now. He needs my help."

"I didn't..say that!" Danny's voice shouted in her ear. She ignored it.

"He'll forgive you." Sam told the nurse. "I promise."

Danny growled on the other end. Sam pressed her face back against the window, watching his figure closely. "I'm sorry, Danny." she said softly. "But I can't just sit here and watch while you're out there, obviously struggling."

"I'm _fine_." he bit back. Sam wasn't so fooled. "And...I-I think I'm ready. The gloves are glowing. I don't know how much longer I can wait." Sam's heart lurched again, and she pressed her body even closer to the window than it already was. She watched his slight figure straighten. She held her breath as she heard him take a deep breath, and then suddenly, he was falling. His shout filled Sam's ears, along with the outraged cries of three other voices as Danny started tumbling through the air. Another figure took his place before the portal. Even from the distance, Sam could see the figure's hands glowing with the same red power that had buried in Danny's chest and sent him tumbling from the sky.

" _Vlad_!" Maddie screamed. He had appeared out of no where. Stuck fast and silently.

"Danny!" Tucker and Valerie shouted.

"Danny-are you okay?" Sam hated the desperation in her voice. He didn't answer. "Danny?"

"Plasmius. He's the one that caused all this." Danny's voice sounded distant, as if he wasn't talking to them anymore. She didn't know who he was talking to, but a rush of breath left Sam's lungs at the sound of it. Her lips trembled at his voice. At least he was still speaking. There was a fumbling, static sound coming from Danny's side of the earpiece. Valerie's cursing, Tucker's pleading, and Maddie's worrying was heard over his silence. They could only watch as a black and silver blur streaked across the sky and right up to Vlad. Danny's body was still steaming from the power of the ectoblast when he slammed into Vlad, loud enough that Sam could hear sound of bodies smacking together in her head, even though Danny's part on the Fenton radio had gone silent.

"Miss Sam, your things.."  
Sam didn't even bother to thank the nurse before she took the torn suit from her hands and ripped off her hospital gown. She slipped her clothes on, strapping the weapons on her belt as she ran. She had to find them. She had to help them.

"Danny." She muttered, a pained cough crawling up her throat. "I'm coming."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading!


	31. Chapter 31

Something like fury rippled through Darrel as he watched the boy, Phantom, as he's called in the old city of Amity Park, tumble through the sky, steam coming off a ectoblast-shaped hole in his suit.

"The kid!" he shouted to himself, to Johnny, and to everyone else that was close enough to hear. "He's down!"

"Who is that guy?" Johnny said, pointing his gun at the ghost with glowing red hands. The only ghost that had managed to sneak up on the kid and get the best of him. "Bastard caught him with his pants down."

Darrel guessed that was one way to put it. Their one job was to keep the ghosts away from the kid. To let him focus, so that he could charge up those hulking gloves of his and destroy the portal where it stood. Shame filled Darrel's cheeks when he realized that somehow, they had failed that one job.

"Kid!" Darrel shouted to the ghost boy. Darrel winced as he tumbled rather ungracefully into the side of a building. He could hear the impact of flesh on brick from where he stood. He saw bright green eyes snap open with a gasp. Darrel found himself racing towards him, his feet moving without his permission. His gun fired at anything in his way. Anything between him and the kid that had somehow, since the moment he had appeared on Darrel's TV screen as a threat to the Whitehouse to now, smashed against the ruins of a brick building, gained Darrel's admiration. Which was not an easy thing to do. Darrel had to admit, ghost or not, he had never seen anyone fly into battle so fearlessly and passionately. He had never really seen anyone _fly_ anywhere without the help of a plane, but that only made him more impressive.

"Watch my back." Darrel shouted to Johnny as he jumped over a pile of rubble and ducked under another pile. "Kid?" He shouted to the boy, floating dazedly just above him. The ghost looked down at him with bleary green eyes.

"Are you alright?"

The boy narrowed his eyes at Darrel for half a second before realizing Darrel was talking to him and not the brick wall behind him. He nodded tensely. Darrel grimaced at the line of green blood tracing the side of his face, down to his jaw line. Not the worst injury he had ever seen, but still...

"What is-" Darrel cleared his throat. He knew _what_ it was that shot the kid from the sky. A ghost. The better question had to be.. "Who was that?"

"Plasmius. He's the one who caused all of this." Phantom's green eyes sparked with rage. His jaw feathered and set firmly under his skin. He reached towards his ear and fumbled with the earpiece there.

"Kid-"

"Take this." Phantom said, dropping the earpiece in Darrel's hand. "There's a woman on the other line-Maddie. Tucker, Valerie, and Sam. Talk to them."

Darrel's narrowed eyes darted between the ghost and the earpiece that seemed to buzz with angry voices. Or worried voices. Danny reached for the burn on his chest. The gloves clanked against his smoldering skin uselessly, and the ghost frowned.

"I need to get that portal down, or else more and more ghosts are gonna come through." His green eyes glared down at the gloves. "And then we'll be fighting forever." Darrel felt his eyebrows raise as the ghost's stare moved from the gloves to him. "I need you and your men to hit Vl-Plasmius," a green blush quickly filled the boy's cheeks, but vanished just as soon as it came. "with everything you have. Keep him distracted while I work on getting this damn portal down. The gloves are almost completely charged, so it shouldn't take long."

"Sounds like a plan." Darrel answered. Somewhere in the back of his subconscious, Darrel wondered when he had started taking orders from kids. Ghost kids nontheless. But, if Darrel had to take orders from any ghost or child, he guessed this one wasn't so bad to listen to. Darrel clutched his gun a little tighter. "Good luck."

The boy only nodded, and then he was off, leaving nothing but the remaining stench of ectoplasm and burning clothes.

Darrel peeked over the pile of rubble that acted as his cover and motioned for his men. Those that saw the signal made their way to him.

"That bastard," Darrel pointed up at the new ghost that the kid had said was the cause of this all. Plasmius. "Keep him away from Phantom. Hit him with everything you got."

They all nodded in response and took aim, some aiming their guns at the ghost in the sky, and other shooting at whatever got to close on the ground. Remembering the earpiece the ghost gave him, Darrel stuck it in his ear as the soft voice of a girl came through.

"Danny, I'm coming."

"Is this, uh, Maddie?" Darrel chimed in. Several voices rang in his ears, none of them sounding very receptive to any voice that wasn't the kid's.

"Danny?" another voice, another girl by the sound of it, asked.

"Uh, no." Darrel answered.

"Where's Danny? Who is this?" A very angry woman hissed.

"My name's Darrel. The Ki-Danny-" Darrel corrected. Such a normal name for such an abnormal boy. "gave this to me and told me to talk to Maddie."

"..okay." The woman's voice said, after a pause. Darrel narrowed his eyes at the sky, his stomach clenching as Danny the ghost gave Plasmius a run for his money. The kid was close-a little too close for Darrel to risk a full on attack. They'd have to wait until the Kid put a distance between himself and Plasmius.

"I'm from the Marine Corp division that the Kid brought with him through the Ghost Zone." he shuddered just thinking of the place. "I've been instructed by him to hit the Plasmius ghost with everything we have. My men are ready to fire once the Kid is out of the line of fire."

"I'll join you." the woman named Maddie responded

"I'm ready." said the voice of a boy

"I'm always ready to take aim at that freaking jackass Plasmius. Valerie, here- ready whenever you are."

"Start..without me." came the panting voice of another, a girl obviously in the middle of running..somewhere. "I'm on my way."

"Sam.." the voice of the boy chided.

"Shut up, Tuck. I'm fine."

"You took a nose dive off the tallest building in the city!"

"I said..I'm _fine_ , Tuck." the girl growled. Darrel suddenly remembered one of the first things he'd seen upon exiting the portal, into the near ruined city. A girl jumping from the ruins of an apartment building, her flailing body falling into the peace of unconsciousness just before the Ghost Kid had caught her. So he did know the girl.

"I think he's making his move." Maddie drew them into silence. A smirk pulled at the edges of Darrel's mouth as the Kid's curled fist smashed against the other ghost's nose. Plasmius went flying, putting just enough distance between the two for the soldiers to take fire safely.

"Now!" Darrel shouted loud enough for his voice to carry through the earpiece and through the men waiting at his side. Instantly, the sky exploded in color. With Plasmius' full attention on the Kid, he never saw it coming. A dozen blasts hit him at the same time, dousing his form in a flash of light. A horrible scream ripped through the sky. Phantom didn't take a second for granted. His gloves glowed a green as bright as his eyes as he raised them towards the center of the portal. It pulsed and squirmed, spitting out ghosts even as they watched. It looked as though green fire burst from the center of his outstretched palms. The ghosts just coming out of the portal vanished in smoke underneath the burning light of the gauntlets. The light filled the portal. It trembled and stretched, constricted and expanded as the power of the gauntlets began to overpower it. Darrel kept his gun trained on Vlad, struggling to focus on his task rather than the portal and possibly the bravest kid he had ever met hovering in front of it.

The portal suddenly went still, and with one last flash of blinding light, it vanished. It was a second or so after that when the wave of raw energy hit. Danny was the first one to face it. Like a wind, the energy rushed through the sky, throwing Phantom, once again, against a building. Plasmius suffered the same fate. Darrel watched in stunned silence as the energy wave crashed against the dome covering the city like a bowl. The two powers collided, and the dome fell. Darrel ducked for cover as sheets of luminescent green fell from the sky, but they never hit the ground. It simply..evaporated into the air.

"Danny!" Maddie's terrified voice broke through Darrel's stunned silence.

"He did it." Tucker cried. "He.. he really did it."

"But where is he?"

Darrel's thoughts mirrored the last girl who spoke. It might have been the one named Valerie, but he wasn't sure. He didn't know these people well enough yet.

"I'll find him." Darrel said quickly. He should be letting someone else find the boy while he dealt with his men, but the ghost boy had hit the wall pretty hard, and...Darrel frowned. A lump of worry formed in his throat. He'd known this kid for less than a day, and yet he cared for him like he cared for his own men. Darrel's eyes found the Danny-shaped imprint on the wall where he had hit. He winced and wondered how someone could survive, not to mention _walk away_ from a hit like that. But somehow, the kid must have, because he wasn't there. Darrel left Johnny in charge with the simple order: shoot the ghosts and don't get killed, before running towards the last place he had seen the kid smashed against a wall.

"Darrel, do you see him?"

"Not yet." Darrel grumbled. Could they give him more than five seconds to try? "Still looking."

When he did find Danny, Darrel stopped in his tracks. The kid was covered in soot and ectoplasm, bits of cement and ash coating his messy white hair. He was leaning against the wall for support. But all that wasn't what made Darrel raise his gun to his eye and hold his breath.

"It's..over, Vlad." the Kid rasped, like every word hurt to say.

"I've found him." Darrel whispered into the earpiece. He described the area as best as he could, even though nearly every part of the city looked the same to him. Rubble here, fire there...but somehow, the others seemed to know what he was saying.

Plasmius screamed in rage at whatever the Kid had said. His face, burned and broken, looked even more terrifying covered in soot and blood. He raised his hand, a crimson ectoblast charging in his palm. Darrel never gave him the chance to shoot it. He shot first, giving away his position with a shot aimed straight at the older ghost's chest. He thudded against the wall, smoke curling from his chest. Darrel wondered how the ghost could still exist after being pelted with dozens of ectoplasts at once. Whoever he was, this guy was no joke.

"How you holdin' up, Kid?" Darrel asked, taking a knee next to the boy's hunched figure.

"Ah."

"Yeah, I see that." Darrel clapped his hand on the boy's shoulder, careful to keep his eyes locked on Plasmius. His ears rang with the voices in the earpiece, but Darrel wasn't listening. He was more focused on the angrily glowing figure of the older ghost.

"You _idiot_!" Plasmius howled. His body was still smoking as he rose to his feet. "You really think you've won?" Plasmius laughed, a deep, sickening laugh. The kind of laugh that brought the word _insanity_ into Darrel's mind. "Daniel, we could have done this together. We could have been a team. Father and son, everything we ever wanted, always in our grasp." the boy tensed under Darrel's hand. He was shaking. Darrel didn't know if it was fear or exhaustion that made the Kid tremble like a leaf, but it turned Darrel's blood cold. He raised his gun at the older ghost and fired without a second thought. The shot bounced off a shield that Plasmius formed out of nothing but air and his hands.

"Fool." Plasmius spat bitterly. With a flick of his hand, Darrel found himself tumbling through the air. He only stopped when his back cracked against the base of a wall. Stars blocked the two ghosts out of his vision.

"Darrel? Hello?" His earphone crackled with static.

"Hurry. Plasmius-" wracking coughs filled Darrel's lungs. "The Kid's hurt." Whatever the garbled voices started to say, it was soon drowned out by the sound of blood rushing through his ears. Darrel wiped red from his eyes and struggled to his knees. His head swam with the sight of the Kid and Plasmius towering above him, though Darrel figured he must have hit his head harder than he thought, because two Plasmiuses danced in his vision.

"It could have been perfect, Daniel, but you had to betray me."

"Betray _you_?" Danny's voice rasped in fury. "You stole my parents away from me. You killed my father-"

" _I_ am your father!" Plasmius roared in the voice of thunder. "That blumbering fool ruined both of our lives." Darrel searched for his gun as the older ghost grabbed the Kid by the collar of his suit. "He made us monsters. _I_ taught you. _I_ trained you. _I_ made you into a hero. He did nothing for you!"

The Kid's fist glowed green as it fit against Plasmius' chin. Darrel almost grinned as Plasmius was thrown back and rolled on the ground. But Darrel quickly realized his hallucination of two Plasmiuses wasn't just in his head when the second one grabbed the Kid by the arm and sent him hurdling towards Darrel. Darrel prepared himself to absorb the Kid's impact. Better him than the unforgiving wall, but the ghost boy managed to catch hold of himself before he hit.

"I hate to do this, Daniel." the second ghost snarled, and for the first time, Darrel noticed the glowing staff in the clone's hand. "But if you cannot obey in reason, then you will obey by force."

"Kid?" Darrel muttered, sorely wishing for his gun. His gun was back where he had dropped it when the ectoblast had buried him against the wall. It was far out of his reach. "Danny?" Darrel pulled at his arm, but the Kid didn't move. His eyes were locked on that glowing staff in the clone's hand. Darrel felt that painfully familiar sinking feeling in his stomach, the kind that told him something was very, very wrong.

"I'm..I'm gonna need rein-reinforcements here." Darrel slurred into the earpiece. His head was growing foggier by the minute, and his sight wasn't much better. "Som'thing wrong with the Kid." He blinked, and Plasmius was there. He clutched Danny by the collar again, only this time, the ghost boy didn't fight back.

"Obey me, Daniel." He spoke softly, almost comfortingly, but the dark glint in his scarlet eyes was anything but. "Obey."

Danny slumped, his shoulders caving in and head falling to his chest. Darrel's stomach churned. He didn't know what was happening, but he was smart enough to know it wasn't good. Without his gun, Darrel wasn't much of a fight against a ghost. Still, he had to do _something_.

His hand found a brick and he threw it with his legendary baseball pitch back from his high school days, and prayed that his aim stayed true after all these years. Plasmius had just about forgotten Darrel until the brick hit him square in the face. He roared, dropping the limp body of Danny. Darrel watched Plasmius raise his glowing hand with blood-blurred eyes, knowing that his was probably the last thing he was going to see. But it had been enough to distract the ghost from Danny, even if only for a second. And that, Darrel thought, was a job pretty well done.

Darrel figured Plasmius' outraged cry was because the shot went wide, missing Darrel by barely an inch.

"I don't think so, you back-stabbing, ugly bastard!"

A somewhat familiar voice brought Darrel back to reality and the realization that he was alive.

"Huntress!" Plasmius' voice echoed with rage. "Stop where you are."

"I don't think so, jackass."

Darrel's eyes widened as a girl on what appeared to be a hover board (honestly, could this town get any stranger?) ripped the glowing staff from Plasmius' grip and swung it like a baseball bat. The crimson orb shattered into a million pieces against the back of Plasmius' head.

"Danny!"

Darrel's head spun as several voices and faces filled his vision and ears. "Danny, are you alright?"

"Huh?"

Darrel wiped the blood from his eyes once again, clearing his vision enough to see the same girl that had hurled herself from the building crouched beside the ghost kid.

"Thank God." She muttered, cupping her hands under his chin. He looked up at her with confused eyes. The girl raised him from his hands and knees and on to his feet. "We almost lost you for a second there."

Her eyes, a beautiful shade of purple, flicked to Plasmius with a rage that made even Darrel want to flinch.

"Pathetic girl." Plasmius snarled at the one with the dark hair and violet eyes. Green blood poured from his forehead and dripped from his chin, but even that didn't stop him. Darrel couldn't believe how fast he moved. His hands were glowing and closing around the girl's neck before Darrel could even stand.

"Kid-" Darrel shouted. The Kid didn't need to be told. He seemed to disappear and materialize in front of the girl. One hand caught Plasmius', and the other gloved hand buried itself deep into the older ghost's chest. When he pulled his hand back, part of Plasmius came with it. Darrel gaped, staring in horror and shock as the Kid pulled out a thermos of all things, and in a swirl of blue light, the ghost of Plasmius was gone. The only thing that remained was a man-not a ghost, but a _man_ -with a silver ponytail, cold, gray eyes, and a clean suit. The man fell to his knees.

"D-Daniel." he whispered in a voice that was far too shaky to have ever belonged to a fearsome and powerful ghost like Plasmius.

"You curse my father for making you a half-ghost." the Kid said, capping the thermos with a lid. "I'm taking away the burden."

"Over here!"

A boy that Darrel could only guess was the one called "Tuck" rounded the corner with a dozen more marines in tow. Johnny, Darrel saw, was one of them. "That's him." Tuck said, pointing to the quivering and undeniably human form of Plasmius. He didn't put up a fight as they grabbed him, cuffing his hands behind his back. Darrel watched as he was led away. The Kid sat, though it was more like a controlled fall, next to him.

"You okay, Kid?" Darrel rasped. He would kill for something to drink.

"I.." Danny's green eyes turned to him. Darrel was shocked to see they shone with tears. "I don't know." Something told Darrel that Plasmius, or whoever the ghost _really_ was, meant a lot more to the Kid than he was letting on. He'd seen some things in his day, and the haunted look of betrayal was one he'd come to know very well. The girl with the violet eyes took his hand. Darrel let them be. Another thing he'd come to know very well was when to know that you're about to become a very awkward third wheel. This, he guessed, was one of those times.

"Darrel!"

Darrel grinned.

"Johnny."

"Man, you look like shit." Johnny said, giving him a sympathetic once-over.

"I still look better than you."

"You wish." Johnny snorted. "Don't worry. The medical team from the other side will be here any second. Maybe you'll look less ugly when they stitch your head back together." Darrel touched his head, feeling warm blood wet his fingers. "Well, speak of the devil. Here they come now."

Darrel sat back down as the medical team hurried in. He couldn't help but laugh as each one stared at the Ghost Boy with undisguised shock. Darrel caught the Kid's eye and he grinned back. He got the feeling he was going to miss this Kid, weird ghost boy or not. He had guts. More than most men, and that was something Darrel could get behind. He never thought he'd ever be caught taking orders from a kid, but after that day, Darrel couldn't think of anyone he would rather fight for. He wondered how the idea of a Ghost-Fighting Marine division would go over with Congress, now that the existence of ghosts was undeniable. Ghost busters of sorts. Or the Men in Black. Darrel chuckled as a few from the medical team tended to his head. His eyes fell to the tattered white suit he had been forced to put on, now smeared with blood and ash. White wasn't the first color choice he would have chosen, but he could deal with it. He couldn't be one of the Men in Black, but Guys in White sounded just as good.

* * *

A/N: Hello! So this is the last chapter for the primary storyline. I'll be posting a short conclusion after this. As always, thanks for reading!


	32. Chapter 32 Conclusion

CONCLUSION

* * *

"You know," Sam said, placing a cup of steaming coffee in front of Danny, "the city board is thinking about erecting a statue of Danny Phantom." She grinned. "For, ya know, saving the city and all that."

"Hm." Danny muttered. He wrapped his hand around the coffee mug and brought it to his lips.

"Are you ever gonna tell that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom?" Tucker asked, nursing his cup of Dr. Pepper.

"I dunno." Danny sighed. "I'll worry about that some other time." Sam sat down next to him on the couch at Danny's new home. He'd moved in with his mother again, only a few houses down from Tucker's, and a five minute walk from Sam's.

"Valerie seems to be happy." Tucker said, checking his phone as it lit up with another text. "Her dad's been hired to work on rebuilding the city."

"He's certainly got his work cut out for him." Danny took a swig of his coffee. "The whole city is gonna need-"

"Danny?"

He lowered his cup at the sound of his mother's voice.

"Yeah?"  
Copper hair and purple eyes appeared around the corner. A gentle smile played on her lips. Sam was glad to see her smile. She hadn't been smiling much since her husbands funeral a few days ago. A bitter reminder of how much she had lost. There had been plenty of tears, but also plenty of promises-of love and forgiveness, promises to make up for the time she had lost. Danny seemed more than willing.

"The president is on the phone again. He wants to speak to Phantom."

"How do they know to call here?" Tucker nearly coughed up his soda. "Dude, do they know-"

"Nah." Danny stood. "I told Darrel to call here. He had some idea about a ghost hunting military division. Maybe he gave it to him."

"Ghost hunters?" Sam watched him cross to his mother, his cell phone dangling in her hand. Danny shrugged.

"When Vlad lost control of the army, ghosts scattered all over the nation. Someone's gotta round them all up." Danny planted a kiss on his mother's cheek as he took the phone from her hand.

"Mr. President?" Danny said, bringing the phone to his ear. "I'm doing fine..." Sam watched him until he disappeared down the hall.

"Imagine that." Tucker snorted. "Federal Ghost Hunters. That's some Men in Black shit right there."

"I think Darrel said something about Guys in White." Sam chuckled. "He seemed to think it was pretty clever. I wasn't going to argue, but he did hit his head pretty hard."

"I don't think it's such a bad idea, actually." Maddie said, sitting down next to Sam. "With that kind of government funding, think of the discoveries that will be made. A completely new understanding of the afterlife, and ghosts, and-" Maddie blushed. "Now I sound like Jack." Sam took her hand.

"You sound like a genius at work." Maddie's lips trembled at the mention of her husband, but they turned up in a gentle smile.

"You sound like a wonderful daughter-in-law."

Tucker actually did cough up his soda this time. Maddie Fenton laughed as Sam spluttered for a response. Sam could feel the heat burning at her cheeks like they were on fire.." She suddenly became very interested in her coffee as Danny rounded the corner, watching his feet as he held the phone to his ear.

"Samantha Fenton-" Tucker whispered. Sam's boot thudded against his shin. Danny's gaze shot to them with narrow, questioning eyes as Tucker whimpered. Sam put on her most innocent smile as Maddie muffled her laughter with a coffee cup.

"Of course. Thank you, Mr. President." Danny took the phone away from his ear and dropped it on the table.

"Well?" Maddie asked as he sat down on the other side of Sam.

"He wanted to thank me," Danny chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "and apologize for shooting at me. But mostly, he wanted to know if I would be interested in being the head of the Ghost-Human Relations and Peace Keeper division of the United States Marines."

"No way." Tucker shook his head, laughter bubbling from his lips. "Darrel actually went through with it."

"Well, are you gonna do it?" Sam asked, turning to face him.

"I told him I'd think about it."

"I think it could do a lot of good, Danny." Maddie chimed in.

"Maybe." he muttered. He stirred his coffee with a spoon.

"I've got an offer to think over, too." the corner of Maddie's lips quirked up in a smile as three sets of eyes raised curiously at her. "The school has offered me Vlad's old job. I may not be a half-ghost, but I do know a thing or two about the ghost hunting. And since Casper High is a ghost hunting academy.." she shrugged. "Jazz is talking with the school board as we speak. They need a new counselor, and she fits the bill just right."

"That's wonderful, Mrs. Fenton!" Sam grinned. She couldn't think of a better person to fill the position, now that Vlad was out of the picture. There was no way he could escape prison without his ghost half, which Danny had yanked out of him with the Gauntlets. Plasmius, along with his powers, had been sealed and destroyed in the Fenton thermos. They wouldn't be seeing any part of him for a very long time.

"Danny, I hope you wouldn't mind seeing your mom at school everyday." Maddie grinned.

"Nothing would make me happier."

"Aw, _Danny_." Maddie's eyes sparkled as wrapped her arms around her son and kissed his hair. The more he struggled, the closer she held him. "You know I love you, right?"

"I uve oo do, mum." His answered, his voice muffled by her shoulder. He pried his face away and gulped in a breath of air. "I love you too," he squeaked, "but I really can't breathe."

"Oh." Maddie let go, a curling smile on her lips. "Oops."

Danny ran his hands through his hair, trying in vain to fix its messy state back to its usual slightly-less messy state. Sam rolled her eyes, her laughter mixing with Tucker and Maddie's.

"So, are you gonna take job?" Sam asked.

"If Danny's okay with it," Maddie shrugged. "I can't see why I shouldn't. And you should, too, Danny."

"Should do what?"

"Take the job." Danny glanced at his shoes, and Maddie took the opportunity to muss his hair again.

" _Mom_." Danny griped. They laughed as he rose from the couch, his gaze set on the window. Sam rose with him, peeling back the curtains just enough for them to both look out. There were cranes moving, construction workers bustling about, just like in every other part of the city. Sam imagined it would be like that for a few years, at least. Vlad had done a lot of damage. Sam frowned, glancing at Danny's gentle blue eyes. He'd done more damage than he'd even realized.

His gaze flicked to hers when she took his hand, intertwining his fingers with his.

"Head of Ghost and Human Relations. It's just kinda..." he wrinkled his nose. "weird." Sam laughed.

"You're a seventeen-year-old half ghost. You're weird already."

His cheeks colored with a blush as he laughed with her.

"You've got a point." He pressed his forehead against the glass. "I guess things'll be a lot different now."

"Different isn't always bad, you know." Sam said gently, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

"I know." He pulled her face towards him and kissed her lips, ignoring the cat calls from Tucker and the snickering from his mother.

"It'll be fine either way." Sam leaned her head on his shoulder and watched the construction crews at work. "I'm sure of it."

* * *

A/N: That's all folks. Thank you so so much for all the people that have stayed with this story and encouraged me the whole way through it. I'm so grateful for all the reviews, and the favorites, and the follows. Thank you for taking on this experience with me. See you next time!


End file.
